Happy to be Here?
by SingingInTheRaiin
Summary: In a world where physical ailments are only possible when one is vulnerable to their feelings, a group called the Vulcans do their best to cast aside all of their emotions in exchange for quasi-immortality. Spock, a supposedly emotionless Vulcan, is hired as a new teacher, where he ends up meeting Jim Kirk, a very intelligent student with a lot of baggage.
1. Chapter 1

Spock didn't think he'd ever understand how his parents ended up together. His mother was illogically emotional, and she had the scars across her body to prove it. Not many of them, but more than any Vulcan. There was one scar of hers that Spock had only seen once, when he was a child, but it was the one that stood out most in his mind.

It was a long one that stretched across her lower stomach. As a child, Spock had already embraced the ways of the Vulcans, but he couldn't help almost feeling sad at the thought of someone injuring his mother. Because he was certain that a wound like that could not have been caused in any accidental manner. He'd asked her about it, wondering who would ever attack someone like Amanda.

She'd given him a sad look, which was just another way to separate her from everyone else Spock knew, but she'd given him an answer all the same. She'd explained that it had been a difficult birth, and she'd been so full of happiness and fear and hope all at the same time that when the doctors had to cut Spock out of her, she hadn't been able to heal right away. But then she told him that even though it had hurt so much, it had been the happiest day of her life, because it was the day she'd first gotten to meet Spock.

At the time, and even now, years later, Spock found the idea of happiness to be quite strange. And stranger still was the idea of being happy despite being in pain. Spock had never felt pain before in his life, and he knew that he never wanted to.

Now that he was older, Spock had been around more people than just his mother. He'd learned that in fact he was the odd one for being Vulcan, where he'd always assumed his mother was odd for not being such. When he'd once asked his father why he married a non-Vulcan, he'd never gotten a straight answer. He remembered asking why they didn't teach Amanda to be Vulcan so that she would be free of pain, but his father had gotten a sour look on his face at that. He'd cryptically said that Vulcans could not be created, they had to be born. But Spock knew that that wasn't true, because he'd seen many join the ranks of the Vulcans without being born among them. But since it had clearly been an uncomfortable topic, Spock had let it go.

Spock looked around the room he was standing at the front of, and wondered, not for the first time, whether this had truly been a wise decision. Amanda had always encouraged Spock to enjoy learning and opening himself to the possibilities of the universe, and she'd been a good teacher. She was the one who'd pushed Spock to be a teacher himself, after he'd made a few remarks about possibly being interested in doing such.

But now he was standing at the front of a classroom as students filed in, and according to the attendance sheet he'd been given, only one of his students was even Vulcan. If he were not Vulcan, Spock might have started to panic then, wondering how he was actually going to manage to educate a classroom full of illogical and emotional beings.

When the minute hand on the clock landed on the twelve, Spock knew that it was time to start his first class, and he couldn't stand there and worry about what was to come. He had passed all of his own schooling with flying colors, and his instructors, both Vulcan and otherwise, had assured him that he would make for an efficient teacher himself.

He picked up his attendance sheet, then looked around at the room full of young and impressionable faces. Was he really going to be doing this for the rest of his life now? It seemed so impossible, and yet he knew that it wasn't, because many other Vulcans successfully managed to teach classrooms of non-Vulcan students.

Spock cleared his throat once, then began reading off the names on the list. He waited for a few seconds for each student to announce his presence before moving on to the next one. About halfway down the list was when he reached his first bit of annoyance. "Kirk, James T?" No one responded to the query, though there was immediately a rush of uneasy looks exchanged between the restless teenagers. "Is there a Kirk in attendance right now?" He only asked the second time as a courtesy, even though he knew that the student would've spoken up if they were there.

One of the others, a girl he hadn't read the name of yet, raised her hand. "Jim isn't coming. Not for a while, probably. He had to go to the hospital this morning."

The last minute hospital entry seemed like a reasonable enough excuse for not attending class, and the last minute part of it would explain why Spock had no notices on the matter. "I see," Spock said evenly. He marked Kirk, James T as absent, and was ready to move on to the next name on his list.

Apparently the class wasn't yet ready to move on, though. One of the students he'd already called, named Gary, spoke out without raising his hand. "Don't you want to know why he's in the hospital?" The way that several students immediately shot glares towards Gary indicated that James was of a higher rank in the social system here than Gary.

"Shut up," one boy hissed. "It's no one's business."

Gary shook his head. "Don't you think the teacher deserves to know why the precious golden boy isn't here?"

Before either of the boys could continue, Spock held up one hand. "That is enough. I will receive whatever information is relevant to the situation from the appropriate channels, at a more appropriate time. For now I would like to continue with attendance so that there is enough time to introduce this class before the bell rings."

Gary sank down in his seat and crossed his arms over his chest. He had a petulant look on his face, even though he'd hardly been chastised at all. The other boy had a scowl on his face, but Spock got the feeling that that was an entirely usual look on him. He continued attendance, eventually learning that the other boy's name was Leonard McCoy, and the girl who'd spoken before was Nyota Uhura.

When he was finished checking off the names on his list, satisfied to find that James Kirk was the only one absent on the first day of classes, he put the list down, and turned his complete focus to his students. He handed out a syllabus, and went through it briefly so that his students would know what to expect of him for the rest of the school year.

By the time the bell finally rang, Spock found himself feeling relieved. It had been odder than expected to stand in front of the class all by himself, as the sole instructor rather than just a teacher's assistant. And he had a free period, which meant that he could use the next hour to prepare for his next class.

Though there was one thing he wanted to clear up first. He couldn't mark James Kirk as having an excused absence without any official confirmation that that was the case, so he decided to take a walk to the main office of the school. The secretary, Janice, offered him a friendly smile. "Morning. How was your first class?"

Spock thought about it for a moment before offering a brief, "It was adequate. I did have a question about one of my students, however. I was informed by another student that James Kirk was admitted to the hospital this morning. I wanted to make sure that that was accurate before putting the attendance into the computer."

Janice blinked a few times. Then she nodded slowly. "Yeah, that's the truth. My cousin works in the emergency room, so even though I haven't gotten an official doctor's note, I know it's true."

Spock arched one eyebrow. "Is it not a breach of doctor patient confidentiality for your cousin to inform you of medical issues of a minor without permission."

For a moment Janice looked uncomfortable, but then she straightened up in her seat. "Look, I get that you're Vulcan, and you don't really understand normal people, but it's alright. Jim is a special case. Everyone around here knows him. He went through some really tough shit when he was younger, and he doesn't exactly have the easiest home life now. This isn't the first time he's wound up in the hospital. But we do care about him. Me and the others around here. God knows that the people who are supposed to don't do nearly enough." She let out a tired sigh. "Sorry, I know you're new here, and you don't really understand the way that things work. But Jim's a really bright kid, probably an actual genius-" Spock found himself dubious of that, since he himself was a genius, and knew that they were hard to come by because many people referred to slightly intelligent children as geniuses. "-and he's at the top of his class. He's never let his absences interfere with that, I promise. He should be back in a couple of days, and you'll see for yourself that he's something special. But yeah, for your question, he is in the hospital, so you can mark his absence as excused."

Spock found the whole situation to be quite curious, but he simply nodded and turned to head back to his classroom instead of sticking around and barraging the secretary with questions. He couldn't even begin to imagine what it would be like to be in a hospital for any reason, so to have been there multiple times just seemed ridiculous. Many people had decided to become Vulcans after one severe injury, so he couldn't understand why this James Kirk had allowed himself to be hurt so many times.

But Spock supposed that it wasn't really any of his business, though if a child was in an unsafe home environment, and there truly were people who cared about him, then why hadn't he been removed from it? Maybe he would look into the situation more when he got the chance, if only so that he'd know he was practicing the proper ethics in this case. And if the boy was really a genius, then it could be interesting to talk with him. Spock had often found himself wishing for someone who he could speak to without changing himself in any way. It was easier amongst Vulcans, perhaps because beings with higher intelligence could see that it was logical to not want to be harmed, but around non-Vulcans, it felt nearly impossible.

Before he even knew it, the end of the day arrived. Spock had gotten through three classes of rowdy teenagers, giving them all the same introduction to his class. As he packed up his things, into the bag that his mother had given him as a gift for good luck on his new job, he heard someone knock against the doorframe of the room.

He looked up, and was met with the sight of an unfamiliar person. They were clearly a student based on their age, but they hadn't been in any of Spock's classes today. The boy had blonde hair that was just long enough to be tucked behind his ears, and the brightest blue eyes that Spock had ever seen. But what really caught Spock's attention were the faded white scars that ran across the boy's face, in three even lines diagonal from the right side of his forehead to the left side of his chin.

When Spock said nothing, somehow having illogically temporarily forgotten how to speak- if he weren't Vulcan he'd be worried that he'd managed to pick up some illness from one of his new students- the boy slowly shuffled forward into the room. He was clearly favoring his left leg, but instead of a pained grimace on his face, he had a cheerful grin. "Sorry to bother you after school's already out- and on the first day and everything- but I thought it would be polite to introduce myself to my new teachers. It was unavoidable circumstances that led to me being unable to attend classes today, but I do apologize all the same."

Even without having seen a picture of the boy before, he decided to take a guess as to his identity. "James Kirk?"

Somehow the grin on the boy's face managed to grow even brighter. "Yeah! It would seem that my reputation precedes me."

Spock carefully took in the boy's appearance again after having gotten confirmation on who it was. James was wearing a pair of sweatpants and a tee-shirt that seemed too large for him. They were clothes designed to cause the least amount of discomfort to whatever injury James was sporting. "I was informed that you would be out for another couple of days." Though he said it as a statement, it was clear that he was asking for further information on why James was in the school right then.

James waved one hand through the air as though whatever he was about to say would be of little consequence. "Can't really afford to miss multiple days right at the beginning of the year. And I'm fine anyways."  
"Fine has variable definitions."

James blinked a few times, then shrugged. "Maybe. I am currently able to sufficiently manage my pain to the point I can continue with my normal routine with minimal disruption. Is that better, Mr. Vulcan?"

"My name is not-"

James waved his hand again, and there was definitely a look of amusement glittering in his eyes. "I know, I know. I wasn't trying to make fun of you or anything. But when everyone started spreading the rumor that we were going to have a Vulcan teacher this year, I got totally excited about it. The only Vulcan most of us even know is T'Shen, and she's always going on about how she's the same as any other Vulcan, but she's also a total bitch, so we were all hoping that she was just lying-" He cut himself before Spock could say anything. "I know, lying is illogical because her classmates seeing her as a representative of all Vulcans doesn't change her status, whatever. But it is nice to see that she was mistaken. Not all Vulcans are bitches."

It would be easy enough to point out that no Vulcans were female dogs, but he was aware that James was using a slang connotation of the word. It was incorrect to do so, but he was only a teenager, so it was understandable if he didn't know everything. Thinking of knowledge reminded Spock of what Janice had told him. "Have you ever had an IQ test performed to confirm or deny your claim of being a genius?"

James laughed. "I never claimed to be a genius. Everyone else just goes around talking about me like that. Don't even worry about it."

Spock wasn't sure what he'd done to imply that James' status as a genius or not concerned him, but there wasn't much he could do about it. This conversation was starting to confuse Spock, so he decided that it was time to leave. "I do apologize, but I have plans for this evening which do not involve conversing with you. You do not need to worry about today's class I was only discussing the syllabus, which you can find online."

James blinked a few times, then laughed again. "Oh man, you guys do not pull punches. I guess it would be illogical to try and protect someone's feelings since you guys don't believe in having feelings, right? I am looking forward to taking this class. I'll see you on Wednesday!" Then he turned and shuffled out of the room. Though he wasn't moving very quickly, Spock found that he couldn't think of any appropriate parting words as James left the room.

Deciding to ignore the strangeness of James Kirk, Spock finished packing up his things, then headed out, locking his classroom door behind him. He got home, and pulled out his phone to call his mother. She answered almost immediately, just like she always did. "Spock, how was your first day?"  
He sat down at his desk while holding his phone. "It was not a large enough amount of time for me to be sure how accurately it represents the normal school year."

That caused his mother to laugh, and Spock was strangely reminded of his conversation with James. Despite the differing voices, their laughs sounded very similar. Perhaps Spock would have to look into laughter, and find out whether or not all non-Vulcans sounded the same while doing it. It seemed unlikely, and yet his mother and James who'd never met and were very different people had similar laughter.

"I'm sure that it'll grow on you, darling." When Spock didn't say anything else, Amanda seemed to figure out that there was something on his mind. "Did anything happen today, Spock? You know that you can talk to me."

Spock refrained from frowning. "Mother?" She made a soft noise to let him know that she was listening. "Why would anyone choose to continue to feel even after being injured multiple times? It is entirely illogical."

Amanda hummed softly for a moment, which meant that she was putting a lot of thought into the question. "Every single human being is given the ability to analyze the costs and benefits of various things in their lives. Like how you weighed the cost of leaving your family with the benefit of being an independent adult with your own job. Vulcans in general weigh the cost of giving up their emotions versus the benefit of remaining healthy and unharmed. But when other people weigh up those costs and benefits, they find a different answer. You will never have to suffer from any physical or emotional pain, but sometimes I fear that you will never know happiness either. Some people believe that there is no point in living if one cannot be happy."

"Is that what you believe, Mother?"

Amanda hummed again for a moment. "I have scars on my body darling, and others have scars in their minds, or far worse than I have written across me. It's not a weakness to have been hurt. It simply shows that you were strong enough to keep moving forward. I have grown as a person thanks to everything that I have been through and felt. And I wouldn't give any of it up for the world." After a short pause, she asked, "Why is this on your mind?"

Spock didn't want to get too specific, but he also trusted his mother to hold on tightly to any details he did share. "There's a student in one of my classes," he started softly. "He was absent due to being in the hospital, and I have been informed that today wasn't his first time there. But when I got the chance to speak with him, he smiled and laughed."

"Oh Spock," the fondness tinged with just a hint of sadness in Amanda's voice nearly felt like it would be Spock's undoing. "It sounds almost as though you're worried about this boy."

"It would be perfectly logical to feel some concern in this situation. Considering that it was not his first hospital visit, and I have been told that he has a poor home life."

Amanda let out a small gasp. "You think he's being abused? Well, you are new in town, and don't really know anyone yet. Why don't you try talking to this boy and getting to know him before you start throwing around any accusations? I hope everything's alright with him, but you interfering without knowing what's going on might only makes things worse."

Spock nodded to himself. "Thank you for the advice, Mother." He leaned back in his seat. "How are you?" And he prepared himself to hear his mother ramble on about her day. It was something he quite enjoyed listening to, and it would help take his mind off of the strangeness of his own day.


	2. Chapter 2

**tanseynz- ahaha yeah I'm total garbage at editing. I just bang out whatever's on my mind and then immediately publish it. I'll try to do better, but no guarantees. I hope that occasional tangents don't interfere with your enjoyment of the story. And I'm happy that you like the idea for this fic :)**

As Jim flopped down onto his bed, wincing at the throbbing in his leg, and the ache from his ribs, he wondered if this was always going to be his life. Surely it wasn't, right? He couldn't think of having done anything to deserve living the way that he did. And yet, he was stuck, at least until he graduated high school and could get a decent full time job in order to support himself.

After lying around and feeling sorry for himself for a while, Jim could hear the vibrations of his phone rattling against his desk, and he got up with a groan so that he could limp across the room and grab it. "Hey, Bones." He didn't even need to check the caller ID because he didn't know anyone else who would call him instead of texting. He was pretty sure that he knew what his best friend was calling about, so he sat down and prepared himself to be yelled at.

Surprisingly, Bones sounded about as calm as he was ever likely to sound. And he sounded more tired than angry. "Hey kid." Jim wanted to point out that they were the same age, but he decided that he'd give Bones the opportunity to just speak first, and he sank back down onto his bed. "It was a pretty boring first day without you around."

"Aw, are you saying that I really am the light of your life?" Jim couldn't help the way he automatic turned to teasing and sarcasm. It was one of his few coping methods that actually worked.

Unfortunately, Bones didn't seem as amused as he usually did. "Is it alright if I come over? I want to make sure that the idiots at the hospital didn't mess anything up."

"Hang on. I'll get back to you in a minute." He didn't hang up, but he did put his phone down on his bed, and with another groan, he got up and limped out of his room. He would've much preferred to have a boring day at school than the alternative that he had faced, but the next best thing would be to hang out with his best friend. He made it to the stairs, and paused at the top. He didn't want to go all the way down and then back up if he didn't have to. Instead, he just called out, "Mom! Can you bring me an ice pack?" When there was no response, Jim knew that he was home alone, so he went back into his room and grabbed his phone. "Sure thing, buddy."

Bones sighed. "Great. I'll be there in a few minutes." Then he hung up, and Jim leaned back on his bed so that he was lying flat. He doubted he'd be able to find any comfortable position, but some were slightly less painful than others.

After what felt like just a few seconds, he heard the front door swinging open. No one in the house ever bothered to lock up as long as someone was home, though Jim seriously doubted his abilities to fight off any burglars in his current condition. Though he wasn't sure how many burglars walked in through front doors anyways, and in a town as small as theirs, he didn't think it would be easy for anyone to safely get away with a major crime.

He could hear the footsteps coming up the stairs, and then there was a soft knock on his bedroom door before Bones walked in. He had that usual just-swallowed-a-lemon look about him, but that familiarity was comforting to Jim. "You should really use one of your pillows to prop up your leg."

Jim shrugged, and grabbed one, then stuffed it under his leg. "You're the doctor, Bones." Of course he was only a teenager and not actually a doctor yet, but it had been his dream since they were children, and he had a natural way of caring about people while acting like he couldn't stand the sight of them, so Jim knew that his friend would be great at it. He patted the space next to him on the bed. "Tell me all about the day. Oh, wait, actually- tell me about the hot new teacher. He's really a Vulcan, as unbelievable as that seems."

Bones arched one eyebrow in his classic what-stupid-thing-have-you-done-now look. "How the hell would you know about that?"

Luckily for Jim, social media was an amazing thing that had really revolutionized the ways that people could communicate with each other. "A bunch of kids posted about it online," he stated proudly, glad that he'd thought of something to say besides the truth. Bones wouldn't appreciate Jim's work ethic.

Bones scowled, but he did sink down onto the bed. "You're a mess," he said softly. "I called CPS again."

Jim shrugged, unworried. It was easy enough to deny whatever accusations Bones came up with. They'd been through this particular song and dance three times already in the time that they'd known each other, and nothing had ever come out of it. Frank had once told everyone that Jim was special because he got so emotional that he could get injured without any specific cause, and though most people doubted that that was possible, once the thought was on their mind, it was easy to excuse away Jim's wounds.

From the angry look that grew on Bones' face, it was obvious that his friend knew exactly what he was thinking. He leaned forward to grab Jim's hands, and did his best to speak in a gentle voice despite the unhappy expression he was wearing. "Why do you let this happen, Jim? Everyone knows what's going on, but they can't do anything about it unless you say something about it. So just tell them the truth. Please. You know I don't use that word lightly, but I don't want to lose my idiot best friend when you could do something about it."

Jim pulled his hands away from Bones, and shifted around until he was settled better. "I don't expect you to understand-"

"Then just explain it to me!" Jim had been yelled at by Bones plenty of times before for all kinds of ridiculous shit, but he couldn't remember a time where his friend had ever sounded so genuinely upset. "Why would you protect them? They're the ones who are supposed to take care of you and they've never done anything but the exact opposite of that! It isn't right, and you know it!"

Jim had never had the easiest life. His mom always hated him for looking so much like her dead husband, and Frank had only ever seen the worst in Jim. But it wasn't until he'd gotten home from- no, Jim wasn't going to think about that. He just offered Bones his typical charming grin, and hoped that it would be enough to make Bones forget about his anger. "Don't worry, I know what I'm doing. But have you gotten the chance to play that new game that came out? I got a copy, and we could totally-"

Clearly, Bones was determined not to let himself be backtracked. "Jimmy," he started. No one had called him that since his brother. And the mix of compassion and hurt and indignation in Bones' voice almost felt like it physically hurt. "I care about you. I just want to make sure that you don't get hurt. That whole carefree persona that you put on is totally see-through because of how often you get hurt, and it means that through everything, you're just as emotionally vulnerable as anything else." He paused for a moment, then took in a deep breath. "Whatever's going on, you can talk to me."

But that was the one thing he couldn't do. He'd sworn to himself, and to the others that had made it through hell, that he would never tell anyone about any of it, ever. Everyone knew the basic facts about what had gone down four years ago, and they knew that Jim had somehow been involved, but that was the extent of the common knowledge. And even that was more than Jim wanted people to know.

Regardless of whether he was going to talk about his traumatic childhood or not, Jim did need to at least give Bones something to chew on that would keep him distracted. And then once Jim was completely healed, the injuries would all be out of sight, out of mind, and he wouldn't have to worry about it anymore. "It was just a dumb argument," he offered hesitantly. "It was my fault; I was trying to start something. I can't just turn around and act like a wimp when I got what I was asking for." He cleared his throat, and tried desperately to think of something else they could talk about. No matter how strong his emotions were when they swirled around inside of him, he didn't like to actually talk about them.

The desperation must have bleed through onto his face, at least a little bit, because Bones let out a heavy sigh, and moved around until he was sitting next to Jim, with their shoulders pressed together. "What's so great about that new game, anyways? All it's going to do is make children think that it's okay to disobey all the rules of the road and go around shooting bazookas at police officers and not have to worry about any consequences."

Jim grinned, always happy to hear one of Bones' grumpy rants about whatever the topic of the day is. "Why don't I show you exactly how fun it can be? Go grab the spare controller, and the fight will be on."

,,,

It felt good to be back in school, even though he hadn't really missed out on very much at all. The first couple of days were always spent just going over what was going to happen throughout the duration of the year, and Jim didn't think this year would be any different. And he was smart enough that even if they had started any actual work, he'd be able to pick up the slack pretty quickly.

As he limped into Mr. Spock's room- he'd never gotten the chance to figure out what the polite form of address was since most Vulcans only went by a single name- he wondered if he'd actually be able to make it through the day. Despite feeling better than before, he had taken a handful of painkillers before heading off to school, and they were making it very difficult for him to stay awake.

Luckily, as soon as he walked into the room, with two minutes to spare, nearly all the students started cheering. Whether it was because they missed his brilliantly shining presence, or because they missed someone who was able to successfully get almost any teacher to go off on a tangent, Jim enjoyed hearing the applause. If it were up to him, there would be a mandatory rule that everyone always clap and cheer when he enters a room. As he took the open seat next to Bones, he was instantly drawn into about ten different conversations at the same time.

The professor seemed adorably puzzled by the sudden upbeat mood, and T'Shen simply offered him a knowing look, as if she understood things any better. Or maybe she did, and being around normal people for long enough gave her a few clues about how they worked. Spock looked almost dismayed at the thought that he was unable to get the class to settle down, and then Jim found himself wondering whether 'dismay' counted as an emotion or not. Then again, it was entirely possible that the man was just making a constipated face.

When everyone finally quieted down and settled into their seats, almost five minutes of class had been wasted. Jim felt victorious that he'd been in class for less than ten minutes, and had already managed to cause a pretty good disruption. It's what gave him joy in life, though he did shoot Mr. Spock a quick and apologetic look. He didn't think it was easy to be the new guy anywhere, especially in an environment that had to seem entirely alien to him.

They made it through the class without too much difficulty, though of course Mr. Spock was one of those few teachers who dove right into the work, and Jim was already behind. But Bones, like the bestest and most amazingest friend that he was, had taken a picture of his notes and sent them to Jim in advance. The only flaw with that was that Bones seemed to be practicing for his future role as a doctor by already having absolutely atrocious handwriting.

When the bell rang, everyone immediately jumped up and began running out of the room, like it was going to somehow make their lives more fulfilling if they were the first ones seated in their next classes. Jim patiently waited for the other students to file out of the room, not wanting to get accidentally knocked over, and then made his way to the front of the room.

He cleared his throat, and offered the teacher a small smile. "I just wanted to say sorry for the disturbance earlier. I don't know what to say other than, 'the party don't start til I walk in the room'." He grinned, proud of himself for the song reference.

Maybe Vulcans didn't listen to music though, because Mr. Spock did not look overjoyed with happiness at Jim's cleverness. In fact, he didn't really look much of anything. It was so strange to try and comprehend the idea that there were really people out there who just didn't feel things. It seemed quite impossible.

When several long and awkward seconds passed without the teacher saying anything, Jim cleared his throat. "Have you ever gotten a papercut before?" He wasn't sure what had made him ask that, it just kind of slipped out. But he couldn't help feeling a little curious. Even a papercut could only be caused by some kind of feeling.

Mr. Spock blinked slowly, and then gave a small shake of his head. "I have not," he said gravely, as though he'd just said something of utmost importance. "Why do you ask?"

Jim found himself feeling a bit surprised. How could someone seriously get through their entire childhood without ever getting a single papercut? One time Jim had cried during a sad movie, and then he'd tripped over the coffee table and sprained his ankle. "Um, no reason. Sorry. I guess I just find the Vulcans to be a curious group of people. I literally can't even imagine what your life is like. What does it feel like to not feel things?"

It was more of a rhetorical question, and Jim hadn't expected an answer, so he was startled when the teacher spoke again. "I can still feel things. My skin is perfectly functional, and all of my nerves work properly to acknowledge and interpret various stimuli."

"Uh, that's not really what I meant. I mean, I know you can still physically feel stuff, obviously. I just-" The bell rang, and Jim could feel his eyes widen almost comically. "Shit, I'm going to be late for my second class. It's not even like I can make a mad sprint."

He turned to start heading out, ready to accept a detention on his first day back this year, but then he felt a soft hand wrap around his upper arm. The hand pulled back a second later, but it was enough to have caught Jim's attention. "I will write you a pass," Mr. Spock declared magnanimously. He scribbled something onto a blank piece of paper, then held it up for Jim to take.

Grateful for the reprieve, Jim took the paper, and gave the teacher another grin. "Thanks, man. I'll see you next class!" Then he hobbled away as quickly as he could move. While he walked down the hallway, which was already completely deserted, he glanced down at the paper he'd been given.

The handwriting was perfectly legible, almost looking like something that had been typed up. If Jim hadn't witnessed Spock writing it, he would hardly believe that a person had done it. It simply stated that Jim had stayed after class to ask some questions, and had not been loitering around. Underneath was the signature, which was just Spock written in the same neat handwriting as the rest of the note, and then a foreign little symbol right after the 'k'. Was it illogical to have a signature in a different hand than normal penmanship? Or was that just a quirk of Spock? From the lack of title anywhere in front of the name, he assumed that Spock was the appropriate thing to call the man.

He got to his next class, handed over the note, and settled into an open seat in the middle of the room. Jim leaned back, and when he realized that they were just going over material from last year to review, he decided that it was okay to let himself zone out for a while.

At the end of the day, Jim waited by the front entrance of the school until he saw Bones step outside, long after the rest of the masses had vacated the premise. He looked surprised to be ambushed by his best friend. "Oh, hey. You didn't respond to any of my texts today or yesterday about how you're doing. I thought…" he trailed off, like he didn't even know the right words to describe his feelings.

Jim just grinned. "You didn't seriously think I could ever be mad at you, do you? I was just tired. Napped through basically all of my classes today."

"Except for Spock's," Bones helpfully pointed out. "You seemed to be paying him your full attention every time he opened his mouth."

Jim shrugged, though he fought a smile from appearing on his face. He enjoyed his friendly banter with Bones, and it always sucked to lose it. It wasn't either of their faults, but any time Jim got seriously hurt, Bones would practically tiptoe around him for a while. Which always made the moment things clicked back to normal feel so much better. "What can I say? He's just my type," and he waggled his eyebrows exaggeratedly.

Bones rolled his eyes. "Your type would be an unavailable, emotionless, walking calculator. I need stupider friends."

Jim leaned forward to pull Bones into a hug. "You know you love me," he said in a sing-song voice.

Bones returned the hug for a couple of seconds before carefully shoving Jim away, making sure to not be rough enough to send Jim landing on his butt. "Yeah, yeah, whatever. Let's get out of here. I need some serious caffeine dosage to get through the rest of my day."

Jim pretended to look shocked. "But Bones! Don't you know how bad for you caffeine is? It rots away your insides and keeps you from getting the sleep that your body is in desperate need of."

"Shove off," Bones muttered petulantly. "You're the only one who was abusing your caffeine enough that you needed to be banned from it."

Jim grinned. "Come on. If you drive, I'll buy you the most expensive, sweetest, most disgusting cup on the menu."

Bones rolled his eyes again. "How could I say no to such an attractive offer."

Jim laughed as he followed Bones to the student parking lot, and climbed up into the passenger seat of his friend's old beat up pickup truck. He put his backpack down on the floor by his feet, while Bones shoved his own bag into the cramped backseat that no one ever wanted to sit in. He started the car, and Jim found the familiar rumbling of the vehicle to be comforting, and he ended up drifting off into another nap while in the middle of telling Bones a completely wild story. He missed the fond look Bones sent his way, and the blanket that mysteriously ended up draped over him, but even without those things, he knew how much his friend truly cared about him.


	3. Chapter 3

**tanseynz- Thank you! I'm glad you like it so far, but yeah, it's all unedited. I'm sure that what you write comes out great whether you edit it a bunch or not, because it's all about the power of believing in yourself, right?**

The first few weeks of school passed mostly uneventfully. There had been a couple of minor spats in the hallways, and Spock had been forced to get used to the fact that students didn't care that they were making fun of him when he could be anywhere nearby. He'd had to deal with a couple of incidents of homework that was eaten by dogs. (Spock had pointed out in each of those cases that paper and ink did not make for proper nutrition for pets, which had only gotten him blank stares in return.)

So Spock foolishly assumed that the rest of the year would follow in the same manner, with no major occurrences, and nothing too difficult to figure out. Which is why he found himself a little surprised when a month into the year, the bell rang to signal the start of first period, and the seat next to Leonard McCoy was conspicuously empty.

Other than the first day of school, James had showed a remarkable tendency for constantly attending class, and he also showed a great love of learning. He was not the type to skip class for anything unimportant. Which made it at least a little bit concerning to not see the usually chipper young man.

When the bell rang to dismiss the class, Spock looked over at McCoy. "Leonard. May I please speak with you before you move on to your next class?"

The teenager looked wary, but he waited until the classroom had completely cleared out, and then made his way over to the front of the room. He started speaking before Spock had the chance to. "Look, I'm going to be honest with you. I know that I haven't been misbehaving in class, and I've done all my work to at least an adequate degree. So it wouldn't make any sense for you to want to talk to me. And if you don't want to talk about me, then I think it's safe to assume that you do want to talk about Jim." He crossed his arms over his chest, and gave Spock a challenging look.

Spock was a bit taken aback by the defensiveness in the boy's speech. It was as though McCoy was used to fielding questions about his best friend. Spock didn't have to work hard to keep his voice even and calm, not wanting to escalate the conversation into anything more than words. While he didn't exactly like any of his students, since that would involve too many emotions, he couldn't deny that he had some level of concern for James. Wasn't it only natural to have a wish to preserve all human life? "I believe that there has been some kind of misunderstanding here as to my intentions. I was not trying to be offensive, and I apologize if I have been. As a Vulcan, it can be difficult for me to-"

McCoy had no problem with rudely cutting Spock off. "Oh that's bullshit, and everyone knows it. Being Vulcan isn't an excuse for anything. And that's if you're even really like that. I find it pretty hard to believe that anyone could suppress all of their emotions like that. It just doesn't seem possible."

Spock blinked a couple times as he took in the passion in McCoy's voice. "I did not ask you to stay after class to discuss the philosophical and biological advantages and possibilities that come with being Vulcan. I simply wished to inquire about the physical health of James Kirk, as he is notably absent today."

He had never thought that interacting with his students would be so difficult. Maybe Spock should have listened to his father and simply gone to teach at an all Vulcan school. But that would have felt too much like admitting defeat. It would have been like declaring to the entire world that he was incapable of handling the wild emotions of non-Vulcan students.

The boy in front of him actually seemed to lose at least a little bit of the tension that had been building up in his shoulders. "Oh. I mean I thought- nevermind. Jim's fine." He hesitated for a moment before adding, "Or fine for him, anyways." There was another pause as McCoy gave Spock an assessing look, most likely trying to figure out how much would be appropriate to share with one of his teachers. Then he just shrugged and continued talking. "You're probably going to hear about it at some point or another anyways. CPS dropped in at his place for a surprise visit. They do that occasionally because of how many times they've been called there."

While there were infinite varied possibilities as to what CPS could stand for, Spock felt that in this case, it was easy enough to assume. "Child protective services?"

McCoy nodded, though he still had a wary look on his face. "Yeah. I'm sure that if you've spent any time with the other teachers around here then you've already heard all of the rumors about what goes on in the Kirk household. It's not pretty stuff."

Of course Spock had heard the rumors before. And while he wasn't usually the sort to give any meaning to gossip, he'd seen the results of the injuries on James for himself. Though he hadn't let himself jump to conclusions, because as his mother had pointed out, accusations of child abuse were extremely serious, and he didn't want to start making them without any definitive proof. But when so many other people around town were convinced that that was exactly what was going on, it was strange that James hadn't yet been removed from his unsafe home. "Are his injuries insufficient proof?"

McCoy scowled, and now he looked really angry. "They probably would be if Jim would just stop being so stubborn and-" he cut himself off and cleared his throat. "Sorry, it's really not your business. I shouldn't be going around sharing private stuff with you. If I thought it would do any good to tell people about his situation, then I'd scream it from the rooftops, but I've yet to figure out anything I can actually do to help, so the situation isn't going to change for now. But as soon as he's eighteen, I'm getting him out of that house, and I don't care what he has to say about it." He almost looked embarrassed by his outburst, but then he just cleared his throat again. "So are you going to write me a pass, or what? I really need to get to my next class."

Spock nodded, and quickly produced a late pass, which he handed over to McCoy. The teen furrowed his eyebrows as he looked at Spock's signature, but he didn't say anything about it, he just turned to leave. Before he actually reached the doorway, though, Spock couldn't stop himself from adding, "While I will acknowledge that you are in some emotional distress at this moment, as foreign as the idea may seem, I feel that I must warn you that it is inappropriate to speak with your teachers in such a way. Should it happen again, I will have no compunction about giving you a detention."

McCoy scowled again, and began grumbling a string of words under his breath. The only ones that Spock could hear properly were, "ice-queen", "hobgoblin", and "pod person". Spock wasn't sure what any of those were supposed to be references to, but he was intelligent enough to realize that they were intended to be insults. It was luck, then, that Spock had grown up letting insults slide off of his back like rain on tarp-

Spock forced himself to stop that line of thinking. He wasn't prone to using similes. It was mostly likely a bad habit that he had picked up from any number of his students, and he didn't want it to become incorporated into his usual manner of speaking.

Grateful to have his free period, Spock organized several stacks of paper, and then pulled out the quizzes that he intended to start grading. It was a strange phenomenon, where students were always so hesitant and unhappy about taking quizzes and tests, but were always so very eager to get them back and see what grades they received. Spock had always appreciated tests, both giving them and taking them, as they were a way of measuring how much information he had retained during any given lesson. They were a way of marking progress when one was a student, and a way of making sure that everyone had done their assignments when one was a teacher.

Halfway through the stack of quizzes, Spock heard someone walk into his classroom. He looked up to tell them that he was utilizing his free period, and would be available for office hours for the hour after school that all teachers were required to stay for, or by appointment only. But it wasn't a student walking in, it was the secretary, Janice.

She had a friendly smile on her face, but the way that she kept twisting her hands together indicated some level of nervousness. Spock gave her his full attention, and when she finally reached his desk, her smile grew. "Hey Spock. I was just, um…" she trailed off, her anxiety clearly taking over.

Spock couldn't even begin to guess what it was that this woman wanted from him, but he wanted to finish grading at least one class's quizzes before his free period was over, so he wasn't feeling very patient. "Yes? Is there something that I can help you with?"

Janice pressed her lips together in a flat line before taking a deep breath in through her nose. Then she let it out from her mouth. "I was wondering if perhaps you would like to join me for dinner? It doesn't have to be tonight, it can be any time, really." She spoke quickly, like she was afraid that she was going to forget her words if she didn't get them all out fast enough. "It's just that you're new around here, and I thought that you might appreciate having a chance to really get around town and get a tour of the place. I'd imagine that you'd have been too busy with settling in to really get out yet."

She clasped her hands together, and leaned forward over Spock's desk, and she looked eager to hear his answer. Janice was right; Spock had been too busy lately to really go out. It would be interesting to get a better look at the town that he would be calling home for at least the rest of this year, and most likely for many more years to come if the year continued on in the same vein it had started in. It was nice of Janice to offer to show him around. "I accept your invitation."

Janice grinned so brightly that Spock was certain he had chosen the correct answer. He wasn't sure why it made the secretary so happy to be a tour guide for him, but he knew that it was always a good thing to foster amicable relations with the people he worked alongside. "That's wonderful news! I know the perfect little place we can go. You wouldn't guess it just by looking, but Marico's has the best food you'll find around here, though I wouldn't try to claim that it's the healthiest. But it's the best you'll get when we don't have any fast food places around. And the owners, Maria and Marco, are good friends of mine, and they've already heard so much about you-!" She suddenly stopped talking, and her face flushed bright red.

Though Spock recognized the sign of embarrassment, he couldn't figure out which of the things Janice had said were things that she considered embarrassing. He was almost regretting his acceptance of her invitation. Even when they didn't try to be, non-Vulcans could just be so confusing and tiring to be around. "I'm sure that whatever place you choose will be adequite," he told her. Then he looked down meaningfully at the papers still stacked in front of him, and the red pen he had set down on the desk.

Janice's face only got more red, and she took a few steps back. "Right, sorry. I didn't mean to interrupt. I'll just go now. Oh! Hang on a moment," she reached over to pick up Spock's red pen, and grabbed one of Spock's hands, where she scribbled down ten digits that were appropriately arranged to make a phone number. "You can just call me or text me after school so that we can figure out what day will work best for both of us." Then she offered a little wave before hurrying out of the classroom.

Spock found himself staring at the empty doorway long after the woman was gone, his mind reeling as he tried to figure out what had just happened. He was aware that he had accepted an offer to be shown around the town, but beyond that, he was thoroughly confused. He would just have to call his mother after school. She always seemed to know what was going on.

Because he did not like the hypocrisy of teachers telling students to stay off of their phones and then using them themselves, Spock always left his on silent in his bag during the day. He could always put Janice's number into his contacts later. For now he carefully memorized the number, and then found some hand sanitizer he could use to wipe away the garrish red ink.

Once that was taken care of, he went back to grading the quizzes, but unfortunately, the distractions all meant that he didn't even have enough time to finish a single class's worth before the bell rang, and students soon began filing into the classroom for their next period. Spock carefully marked his place in the stack of quizzes, and then stood up to conduct class.

The rest of the day passed without anything of note occurring. He helped a couple of students who stayed after school, and then left as soon as the after school bell rang, signalling the teachers' ability to go home. When he got there, he called his mother pretty quickly, wanting to figure out what to do.

It didn't take him long to describe the strange encounter, though he certainly hadn't expected the response that he got. His mother was clearly giggling on the other end of the phone. It took several long seconds for her to calm down enough to be able to speak. "Oh Spock," she sounded so fond, and yet oddly melancholy at the same time. "This Janice woman was inviting you out on a date. She clearly likes you- and who can blame her? You're a real catch."

Spock wasn't naive enough to be unaware of the connotations of a date. That meant a courtship, and it meant that Janice wanted to mate with Spock. But Spock had always promised himself that he would never be with someone else who wasn't Vulcan. Though he loved his mother dearly, he knew that she was often looked down upon for her decision to marry a Vulcan without actually becoming a Vulcan herself. And though he would never tell her, Spock couldn't help feeling slightly resentful of that himself sometimes. If he had been raised by two Vulcan parents, then he would have avoided the teasing and insults he had gotten as a child, and he would not have had to worry about disappointing either of his parents by moving in one direction or the other.

"Mother, I have no wish to enter into a courtship with Janice, nor do I wish to harm her feelings. What do I do?"

Amanda sighed. "It's funny that you ask for my advice more now that you're far away than you have since you were a child. I can't help missing the days when you relied on me and your father for guidance. It's one of the strangest feelings in the world; to watch your child grow up and not need you anymore."

That wasn't the answer to Spock's question, but he knew that as a non-Vulcan, Amanda had emotional needs, and that as her son, Spock was one of the few who could help. "I will always need you, Mother," he said softly. Sometimes, Spock was almost afraid that he loved his mother, but he would never admit to that out loud. "You are very important to me," he said instead. "When I need guidance, you are always the first person that I ask."

There was a very short pause, and then Amanda cleared her throat. "I love you, Spock," she told him seriously. She didn't even give him a chance to say it back, already knowing that he would not do so. "And now you're old enough to have to learn how to let a girl down easy, huh?" Even though she was clearly trying to sound light and humorous, her voice was still tinged with a sadness that Spock did not understand. "I think that when you call her, you should make it very clear that the two of you are hanging out as friends only. Then ask if she still wants to go out with you or not, because if she does, then you should have no problem with just hanging out."

"I don't know about that, Mother. It doesn't sound like a plan that will not hurt her feelings."

Amanda chuckled. "Between the two of us, I think that I am far more qualified to be discussing feelings."

That was true. "Alright, I will try this. Thank you for your advice."

Before he could ask her how her day went, Amanda called out, "Oh! I forgot to ask, but how are things progressing with that student of yours? Have you gotten any closer to figuring out the truth of his situation."

"I have not. But I did learn today that child protective services paid a visit to his home because apparently they have been contacted in regards to James on multiple occasions. But the source who gave me that information also made it clear that child protective services have not been able to aid James in the past."

Amanda hummed softly under her breath for a moment before answering. "Sounds like this might be a tricky one to figure out then. But I believe in you, Spock. If anyone can get to the bottom of this, it's you."

Spock nodded once, even though he knew that Amanda wouldn't be able to see it. "Thank you, Mother. Your advice and confidence in me are invaluable." Then he moved the subject on to Amanda's day, always eager to hear about how she was doing without her son at home anymore. The rest of his problems were things that could all be put off until later anyways.


	4. Chapter 4

**tanseynz- Yeah, he has no idea how non-Vulcans work, so he never really knows what they're talking about lol. And as for the school condoning it… the sad truth is that a lot of kids who suffer from domestic/child abuse are never rescued from their situations when there could be any number of people who know what's going on :(**

Jim stared down at the gravestone in front of him. It was always kept in pristine condition, as were all of the graves in the veterans' cemetery where his dad had been buried. If it wasn't for the pictures he found on google, Jim wouldn't even know what his dad looked like, because there were no photos of him around the house, and he was never supposed to bring the subject up with his mom because it made her 'too sad'.

Jim wasn't even sure if his mom remembered that her late husband was a national hero. She didn't seem to remember much of anything these days because she was always so busy being wrapped up with herself and Frank that she never had time for anything else. Jim wondered if a therapist would consider him someone with mommy issues or daddy issues. Not that it really mattered, since Jim was never going to see a therapist anyways.

On the days when he felt really bad, he'd just visit his dad's grave. It was morbid, but sometimes talking out loud to a hunk of rock actually helped him figure things out for himself. And he could never stop himself from looking at the empty plots near George Kirk's. Jim could've ended up in one of those. Well, no, he probably wouldn't have been put in a vet's graveyard. But he could've died four years ago, and he wasn't even sure that there was anyone out there who cared.

Before he could get too lost in his own thoughts, Jim saw movement out of the corner of his eye, and he turned to see Bones walking over to him. Jim had totally lost track of time, but school must have let out for the day. No matter what he claimed, Bones was way too much of a goody two shoes to cut class. Jim tilted his head as he tried to figure out why people associated having two shoes with someone who stuck to the rules all the time.

Then Bones put his hand on Jim's shoulder, shaking him out of that mental tangent. "Hey, I missed you today."

Jim shrugged. "Sorry about that. I'm already a couple weeks ahead in most of my classes though, so I don't think that missing a few days is really going to make that much of a difference."

Bones frowned. "You didn't even text me to let me know that you wouldn't be there. I half thought that maybe CPS had finally taken you away, and that you just hadn't gotten the chance to tell me yet."

"Don't be ridiculous. There's nothing wrong."

That brought on one of the famous Bones scowls. "You bought the wrong shade."

Jim blinked in surprise, unsure of what his best friend was talking about. "I'm sorry?"

"You bought the wrong shade of concealer. You look like you mysteriously managed to tan just one cheek out of your whole face."

Automatically, Jim reached up to prod at his face, though he didn't wince at the feeling of the fresh bruise. He was too used to them for them to really bother him anymore. Basically he was satisfied as long as he didn't end up with any broken bones or bloody injuries. Bruises were nothing. Bones apparently didn't agree with that, though, because he sounded so sad when he responded. "Dammit, Jim. If you stay in that house, you're going to get yourself killed, and there's not going to be anything that I can do about it." He sighed. "You could just go to the police right now. Show them the bruise, he'll be arrested for sure." It was obvious from the tired tone of Bones' voice that he didn't actually think Jim would listen to him.

And he was right. Bones didn't understand why Jim had to stay. Of course Jim was well aware that he wasn't living in a healthy environment, and that maybe if he actually spoke out against Frank, then something would be done about it. But Bones would never understand why this was only justice being served. Maybe it could be called karma. Bones didn't know anything more than anyone else about four years ago, and Jim was grateful for that. If his best friend knew about the things he'd done, he'd be next in line to hurt Jim. And Jim would deserve every blow against him. It was a grim reality, but it was the reality that Jim lived in.

When a few minutes passed without Jim saying anything, Bones reverted back to scowling. That was a good thing. When Bones scowled, it meant that all was right in the world. It's when he looked like he was about to cry that Jim couldn't stand it. He hated to see his best friend ever get hurt, and he was well aware of the irony of that since he was the one hurting Bones by letting himself get hurt. But it was for the best no matter how he looked at it, so Jim was content to let the situation stand.

Bones took a few steps closer to George's grave, and looked down at it. Jim couldn't remember Bones ever talking to the stone before, but it was possible that it had just happened when no one else was around. Bones cleared his throat once before he squatted down, and stared straight at the smooth granite. "Hey. I just wanted to say that I really hate you sometimes for leaving Jim behind like that. Maybe if you were around he wouldn't be such an idiot. Well, I know that he'd always be an idiot, but maybe he would at least be a healthy and alive idiot. Quite unlike your current state."

Jim's eyes widened, and then he couldn't help letting out a loud chuckle. "Seriously? Aren't you supposed to be respectful of the dead?"

Bones stood back up, his knees cracking as if he were an old man, and he crossed his arms over his chest. "I never even knew him when he was alive, so how am I supposed to respect him? Of course I respect what he did; he saved a lot of innocent people. But I can't forgive him for abandoning you the way he did."

"Aw, Bonesie, you know I'm never alone because I have you!"

"You're damn right you do," Bones grumbled. "Come on. It's too cold to be standing around out here like a couple of idiots."  
Jim grinned, and followed Bones out of the cemetery. That certainly hadn't gone down like his usual visits to dear old dad. But Jim was glad to have a friend like Bones looking out for him. Even if he'd done unforgivable things, and didn't deserve such an awesome friend, he was grateful for it all the same.

Back in the parking lot, Jim saw the familiar old truck that belonged to Bones, and he easily hauled himself up into the passenger seat. "You should really think about getting some locks installed on this bad boy."

As Bones clicked his seat belt shut, he shrugged. "What difference does it make? No one would want this hunk of scrap metal anyways."

Jim gasped. "I can't believe you would call her that! After all the hard work that I've put into her."

Bones shrugged again. "I'm pretty sure that you're only keeping this tin can going out of sheer willpower at this point. Seriously, I have no idea how you manage to fix it everytime something new breaks, which is basically all of the time. You've clearly got a gift, kid."

Jim's face flushed pink, and he turned to look out the window. "We're the same age," he grumbled half-heartedly.

Eventually, they wound up at Bones' house, which was always one of Jim's favorite places to be. He practically skipped through the door as soon as Bones unlocked it, and then he followed his nose the delicious scents wafting out of the kitchen. David McCoy and Eliza McCoy, Bones' dad and younger sister, were moving around the kitchen, dancing while they worked on whatever it was they were cooking.

As soon as she realized they had a guest, Eliza leapt over to Jim, and jumped right into his waiting arms. "Jimmy!"

"Lizzie! I feel like I haven't seen you in for-ever-er!" he purposely dragged out each syllable of the last word, and Eliza giggled.

David turned to look at Jim with a fond smile, though he waved his spatula at Jim in a faux threatening way. "Hey now, where have you been? It really has been forever."

Eliza squirmed out of Jim's arms so that she dropped back to the floor, and then reached up to grab one of Jim's hands. "We're getting married," she announced solemnly. "I just decided that right now."

Bones squeezed his way into the small kitchen, which definitely felt over crowded with three and a half people in it (Eliza was still a shrimp, so she didn't count as a full person yet). "This is why I don't bring him here. Every time I do, you guys all act like he's God's gift to this Earth, and you completely forget that I exist." Even though he was grumbling, he was wearing his 'I'm actually happy but trying not to show it' scowl, which was one of Jim's favorites to see. He knew that Bones appreciated how much his family loved Jim.

David rolled his eyes. "You teenagers are all so hard to keep up with." Then he looked back at Jim with a smile. "Liz and I were just making some cupcakes for a bake sale that her scout troop is holding, and we made way too many because we were so eager to try out different flavors. You'd be doing us a huge favor if you eat as many of them as possible. There's already some cooling out in the dining room, and the bowl with foil on top is the homemade icing. Please?"

Jim grinned. "Well, as long as it would be helping you out." Then he headed to the dining room, and saw two cooling racks with different colored cupcakes evenly spread out on them. He ended up scarfing down two of them before he looked up and saw Bones staring at him. He cleared his throat, feeling a little embarrassed.

But Bones didn't seem bothered. "Eat as many as you want. Eliza just informed me that the only flavor cool kids make is peanut butter fudge chunk, and she refuses to bring any of these to the sale."

Jim knew that the McCoys were just being nice, and that they were trying to not make him feel bad about eating all their cupcakes. He didn't even understand why they were always trying to ply him with food. There was always plenty of food at his house, so it's not like he was lacking in any of the necessities. Though admittedly, sometimes it was hard to eat anything when he started reliving his memories of the past, but that only happened every couple of weeks, so it really wasn't a big deal.

For the sake of preserving his pride, Jim decided to just play along. "I didn't realize that cool kids came with their own specific flavor. I hope someone lets her know that the only way she's going to stand out is if she has a different kind than everyone else."

Bones shrugged as if to say 'what are you going to do?' Then he reached over to grab one of the cupcakes. He uncovered the bowl of icing, and dunked the cake right into it before bringing it up to shove into his mouth. "I'm a growing teenage boy too," he said through a mouthful of cupcake. He put down a plate that he'd brought out of the kitchen, and shoved all of the remaining cupcakes onto it, and then drizzled icing over them. They were still warm enough that the icing started to melt a bit, and it looked like a delicious mess of food. "Come on."

They headed up to Bones' room, where they both flopped down onto the bed. Jim was careful not to drop any crumbs anywhere, because he knew that Bones would kill him if his room was infested with ants or anything. Though it would be kind of funny to spill of a glob of the white icing and then make inappropriate jokes about it.

While they gobbled down their cupcakes, Bones turned on the TV, and flipped to the channel that was always playing reruns of crappy old shows. After a while, they finished the cupcakes, and Bones got up to head downstairs and wash the plate off. While he waited for his friend to return, Jim shifted around to try and find a more comfortable position on the bed. He ended up accidentally rolling over onto the TV remote, and it changed the channel.

Jim began digging around through the piled up blankets to try and figure out where the hell the remote had ended up, when he heard something from the TV that sent a shiver down his spine, and he quickly turned around to look at the news report that was playing. " _-Tarsus, weren't they?"_

" _Yes indeed, Barbara, and that is part of what makes this all so chilling. Though the specific details of everything that happened in that small town, everyone is well aware of the nearly 8,000 casualties, and that there were only nine survivors in the end. So for three of those survivors to die within two months of each other seems very suspicious. Of the remaining six survivors, three of them are only children-"_

Jim had managed to fumble around and shut the TV off. He couldn't just sit around and listen to those reporters talk so casually about something that had changed Jim's entire life. He stared at the blank screen with wide eyes, unable to wrap his mind around what he had just heard. Not only were those people talking about something that they had no right to talk about, but what they were actually saying sounded terrifying. Three survivors dead within two months? Who would even do something like that? And why?

It took him a very long minute to realize that his name was being called. "Jim? Is everything okay? Jim?"  
He looked over towards Bones. "I, uh." He gulped. "The jokes were really shitty. Couldn't take another second of that garbage show." And then he reached up to scratch at the back of his neck while letting out an awkward sounding laugh. "Sorry, but we should find something better to watch."

Bones was looking at Jim with narrowed eyes, like he was trying to figure something out, but just couldn't quite put his finger on it. Finally, he sat back down on the bed, carefully taking the remote from Jim's numb fingers. "Okay…" he looked very unsure of himself, and Jim was suddenly reminded of the fact that no matter how mature Bones seemed most of the time, he was still just a kid. And Bones didn't need the burden of trying to deal with everything that Jim had gone through.

When Bones turned the TV back on, it was still on the news channel, though they'd moved on to a story about a baby duck at a petting zoo. Bones peered at Jim out of the corner of his eye, but didn't seem to be able to find whatever it was that he'd been looking for. It didn't take very long for the two of them to decide on a movie, since Jim just said yes to the first one that Bones suggested.

After a few minutes of staring at the screen in silence, Bones huffed, and reached over to grab Jim and yank him closer so that the two of them were basically cuddling. Then he grabbed his blankets and pulled them up to wrap around both of them. Jim wanted to make a comment about how this seemed more than a little gay, but it felt so nice that he decided not to do anything that would stop the moment from continuing.

While they watched, Bones kept making inappropriate commentary, even though that was usually Jim's role during the viewing of anything. After a little while, Jim even joined in on it, and they ended up barely being able to hear the movie at all over the sound of their own hilarious dialogue.

When it was over, Jim glanced over at the clock, and reluctantly pushed aside the blankets and stood up. "I should really be heading back home soon. Wouldn't want to miss curfew or anything." He hesitated for a moment, trying to figure out the wiseness of bringing up how weird he'd been. He settled on a simple, "Thanks."

Bones shrugged as he stood up as well. "I'll drive you home." Then he reached over to give Jim's shoulder a quick squeeze. "I- you know that you can talk to me about anything, right? Anytime, just call me up, and I might grouch at you, but I'll also listen to you."

Jim really didn't know what he'd done to deserve a friend like Bones. "Thanks. You're my second favorite person in the entire world."

Bones narrowed his eyes. "Second favorite?"

"Well yeah. Who can say no to Lizzie? She's like literally the most adorable pint sized human being that I've ever seen before."

Bones' shoulders relaxed and slumped down, as if he'd been genuinely concerned about being second best. "I guess I can understand that," he allowed. "My sister is pretty awesome." They both grinned at each other, and then headed out to Bones' beat up old truck. The worst part about going to Bones' house was always when he had to leave, and he couldn't wait to come back again sometime soon.


	5. Chapter 5

**tanseynz- The Conscience of the King will always, without a doubt, be my fav episode of tos so even in an au I can't resist having some version of it haha. And yeah, I figured that Jim needed at least somewhere that he could feel a safe and happy.**

 **KnightLawn- Thank you!**

If Spock didn't know himself any better, he might almost mistake himself for being nervous. But that was an utterly ridiculous notion. He was a Vulcan, and Vulcans simply did not get nervous. But he also knew on a logical level that if he inadvertently caused issues with Janice, who was in charge of important paperwork, and had a close friendship with most of the school's administration, then Spock's career could be on the line.

Telling himself that there was no use in delaying the inevitable, he waited for the student talking to Janice to finish up and walk away before he approached the secretary's desk. "I believe that there has been a misunderstanding between us. When I accepted your invitation for a tour of the town, I was unaware that you had intended to begin a courtship between us. If you still wish to accompany me as nothing more than colleagues, then I will allow that. If you do not wish that, then I will not think any less of you."

Janice blinked a few times, and her face slowly flushed pinker and pinker. She cleared her throat, and shifted around in her chair. "This is, um, really awkward." She reached up to scratch at the back of her neck while laughing nervously. "Is it alright if I ask why you don't want to, uh, go on a date with me? I mean, I'm not proposing marriage and children, it would just be a day to get to know each other better."

"I apologize, but I have no interest in being romantically involved with anyone who is not a Vulcan."

The secretary gulped, then nodded once. "I get it. There's too much of a culture barrier between us, right?" The phone on Janice's desk rang, and she sighed. "Please just give me a moment." She picked it up, and made a few noises of agreement before hanging up. "Hang on, I just need to-" she cut herself off, clearly preoccupied with whatever she'd just been tasked to do. She shuffled around the papers on her desk, looking rather flustered, until suddenly she flinched back and then stuck her finger into her mouth. Spock blinked a few times, trying to figure out what she was doing. Then she removed her finger, and shook it back and forth in the air a few times. "Shit, stupid papercut," she muttered.

"Would you like me to go to the nurse and procure a bandage for your injury?"

Janice shook her head. "No, no, that's alright. It's just a small thing." She offered Spock a weak looking smile. "Have you ever heard the joke about how Vulcans refuse to let themselves bleed because then everyone would see that they have green blood?"

Though Spock knew that many non-Vulcans used humor when they were feeling sub-par in order to make themselves feel better, he wasn't sure where the humor was in Janice's joke. "It is highly illogical to believe that Vulcans have green blood. We are human beings just as non-Vulcans are, and the blue shading of our veins would not be possible if our blood was a different color than yours."  
Janice frowned. "I know, Spock. That's why it's a joke. I can't even imagine what it would look like to actually see a Vulcan bleed, since that would require them to feel some kind of emotions first." She let out a long sigh. "Look, I've got to get back to work, and make sure that all these documents are in order. I'm sorry if you think I was being dishonest about my intentions towards you, so I'm going to speak really clearly now. I don't want to hang out with you as just colleagues. It would be too painful for me."

Spock's eyes flicked down to her finger, where there was a small amount of blood beading up on the thin line of the cut. "I am not an expert in the medical field, but that is only a small injury and should be healed within one or two days, should it not?"

Janice smiled, though even someone as unversed in emotions as Spock was able to see that she looked unhappy. "The cut will heal. My heart might take a bit longer. I know this will probably sound foolish to you since we haven't known each other for very long, but I find that I really like you. You're an attractive man, and you're very intelligent, and you seem very kind and good to your students. Can you really blame me for liking you?" She sighed. "I think it would be best if we just didn't talk to each other for a little while. Maybe a couple of weeks. It would help me to feel better in the long run."

Of course Spock had no idea where Janice was coming from with this. It did seem foolish for Janice to feel so attached to him when they hardly knew each other. Even within the school they hadn't talked much beyond 'basic small talk', which was a conversation skill that Spock had learned from his mother when he had first declared his intentions to live away from the other Vulcans in their colony. "Very well," he agreed to her request. He wasn't really sure what else to say in this kind of situation. He was definitely far out of his comfort zone with all of this.

Janice didn't say anything else, just looked back down at her paperwork. Spock took that for the dismissal that it was, and turned to walk back to his classroom. He turned around too quickly to pay proper attention to his surroundings, and was unable to avoid collision with someone who had been walking without looking where they were going.

Spock simply took a step back, but the other person was apparently in possession of much slower reflexes, because they teetered backwards, and then landed on the hard floor with a soft 'oof'. Spock extended one hand down to aid the other person in standing up, and when they peered up at him, he recognized the face of James Kirk.

James grabbed Spock's hand and let himself be pulled back up, though he did wince at the action, and let out a few loud coughs. "Sorry about that. I guess I was in too much of a hurry to give my excuse notes to the lovely Miss. Rand. It won't happen again."

"See that it does not. This is a school, and not a track field for students to be running around in." He hesitated for a moment before adding, "It is pleasing to see that you are back in the school. Several of your classmates seemed quite concerned about your health."

James tilted his head, and arched his eyebrows. "Really? Awesome, thanks."

Spock wasn't sure what he was being thanked for. It was clearly another illogical sign of a non-Vulcan, and he didn't want to take the time to try and figure out the specific meaning behind it. Non-Vulcans were just too confusing. Nothing they did made any sense. And sometimes Spock couldn't help thinking that illogicalness was contagious, because he turned the corner, but then stood there. There was no reason for it, but he just stood. And coincidentally, he was in a perfect spot to be able to overhear James' conversation with the secretary.

"Hey Miss. Rand. Here are my excuse notes for my absences. It's not so many that it'll prevent my graduation, right?"

Janice sighed. "Don't worry. There have been a few conversations between the principal and some of your teachers and the general consensus is that so long as you hand in all your work and pass all of your classes, then you'll be free to graduate. It's an exception that most kids aren't offered, so you should feel pretty grateful for it. And I'm sure that you won't have any trouble keeping up your grades, right?"

James chuckled. "Nope, no problem at all. Thanks for everything, Miss. Rand. You deserve a promotion and a couple of raises."

"Hey now, enough of the sweet talk. You should probably head to class before the first bell rings. You have Mr. Spock first, right? He doesn't seem like the sort to appreciate tardiness."

James laughed again. "Yeah, yeah, alright, I'll get out of your hair now."

There was a moment of silence, and Spock assumed that James must've turned to walk away. Just before he went to do the same, there was a pained yelp, and Janice's alarmed voice. "Jim? Are you alright?"

A few wheezing breaths, and then Jim's response. "I'm fine. Just a- cramp. From jogging right after eating. My bad. Don't even worry about it."

"Jim…" From the tone of Janice's voice, she was definitely worried.

Spock wasn't sure why, but he wanted to turn the corner and check James over for himself, to make sure that the kid was alright. He was pretty sure that cramps from exercise didn't work on a delayed timer, and that they wouldn't cause harm while James was standing still. But Spock would have no reasonable explanation for why he was right there when he'd supposedly headed off to his classroom a couple of minutes ago.

A quick glance up at the clock showed that it was almost time for him to be in class, and he had no right to chastise his students for being late if he was going to do the same thing. And was obvious that Janice cared about James' wellbeing, and would surely escort the student to the school nurse if she felt that the damage was bad enough.

As he briskly walked back to his room, Spock couldn't help wondering about James. Was it possible that he'd been injured earlier but had just become emotional enough for the injury to truly harm him? Spock wasn't entirely sure how injuries and their connection to emotions worked. He decided that it would probably be best to leave it to the professionals to figure out what was going on with James Kirk.

When he walked into his classroom just a few seconds before the bell rang, several students laughed and pointed out him. They were no doubt making strange jokes at his expense under their breaths, though Spock was not bothered by what hormonal teenagers thought of him. He was there to do his job, and educate these kids, and that was all.

Several minutes into class, the door opened, and James slipped into the room. He bowed his head once in Spock's direction, then hurried to his seat next to Leonard McCoy while doing his best to cause minimal disruption. It felt out of character for him, but Spock decided to not discipline James for the tardiness.

When the bell rang to the dismiss the class, Spock didn't expect for James to make his way over to the front of the room so that he was standing in front of Spock's desk. "Sorry I'm late. Usually if I'm going to be late anyways, I try to just skip, but I thought that it wouldn't be a good idea, since apparently my teachers have all been nice enough to be okay with my absences. I'm a little surprised, actually. I would've thought that you'd be opposed to that."

Perhaps the other teachers had thought the same thing, because no one had actually held any kind of discussion with him about James. In any other situation, Spock would definitely explain that he couldn't pass a student who was not in constant attendance of his classes. But he understood that James was in a bit of a unique situation. "It has nothing to do with niceness. The point of attending school is to get an education. If you are capable of receiving that education without constant help from an educator, then you should not be punished for that. However, I hope you do not use this as an excuse to simply skip classes whenever you feel like doing so. You wouldn't want to abuse this privilege."

James grinned. "I would never do anything so irresponsible, I promise. I will be a model student who will make all the other teachers jealous because they don't have someone like me in their classes."

He turned to start to walk away, but Spock couldn't help wanting to sate his curiosity. "Are you injured? Your movements don't seem as smooth as usual."

James glanced back, and his eyes seemed to be wide with surprise, though Spock could be mistaken about that. "Me? Yeah, I'm fine. I'm always fine." He didn't continue on his way, though, instead he turned so that he was completely facing Spock again. "Have you ever heard of Tarsus?"

Spock nodded once. Almost everyone had heard of Tarsus at some point or another. It was a major tragedy that had resulted in more civilian casualties than the last time that the country had been at war. And it hadn't even been an entire country that was the problem. It had just been a single town in this nation that had put the wrong person in charge, and suffered as a result of that. "Why do you ask?"

James shrugged. "I don't know if you've seen the news or not, but apparently a few of the survivors died recently. It sucks, doesn't it? To think that they made it through the bloody hell of Tarsus only to wind up dying a few years later? Do you think that it's karma?"

"Vulcans do not believe in the concept of karma. The universe is not responsible for making sure that everything is fair among the people within it. There are many people who do good things who wind up in unfortunate situations, while there are others who do bad things, and walk away with no consequences." He tilted his head. "But if karma were to exist, why would it seek to punish those who were already victims?"

A strange look crossed James' face at that question, and Spock almost wished that he were more fluent in understanding the emotions of non-Vulcans so that he'd be able to figure out what that look was supposed to mean. "Victims? What makes you think that the survivors are all victims?" His eyes were staring off into the corner of the room, and it seemed as though James had forgotten who he was talking to. "To survive that kind of hell, no one could stay innocent." Then he shook his head a couple of times, and frowned. "Sorry. I don't even know what I'm talking about. Anyways, great class today. I'll see you around." Then he hurried off without another word, though his steps seemed more deliberate than usual. Spock was pretty sure that that was a sign of someone being in pain, but he didn't know enough about it to be able to say for sure.

The rest of the day went on the same way that almost everyday went, and then Spock headed home as soon as he could. Janice apparently liked him just like his mother had said, but she didn't want to see him because it somehow hurt her. James was definitely injured, and had spouted some strange things about Tarsus.

Spock wasn't really sure what was going on, though he did know that his life had gotten much more complicated since he'd decided to get a job in a predominantly non-Vulcan school. He wanted to call his mother to ask her for guidance, but he felt like that was all he'd been doing lately, and he knew that she had her own life to live as well.

While Spock contemplated whether he should start planning the next test now, or if it was something that could wait until tomorrow, there was a knock at the front door to his apartment door. Assuming that it was someone who had the wrong address, Spock got up to politely send away the visitor.

He opened the door, and immediately had his arms full as his mother jumped at him. "I'm so sorry to just show up like this, since I know how much you hate surprises, but I just had to see you!" She finally pulled back to look up at Spock fondly. "Have you grown so much in just a couple of months?" She reached up to run her hands through Spock's hair. "And you're letting your hair get so long? I'm amazed."

Spock finally snapped out of his shock, and stepped aside so that his mother could enter his apartment. "Mother, it is pleasing to see you in person. I wasn't expecting you."

She grinned. "I know, sorry about that. But Sarek had some business elsewhere, and I got so lonely being home all by myself, so then I got it into my head that I should come and see you! Was that a bad idea? I can go get a hotel and then take the first train back tomorrow morning."

Even though he hadn't been expecting this, Spock was glad to see his mother. He shook his head once. "That will not be necessary. I admit that I have missed being in your presence."

The grin that lit up Amanda's face made the uncomfortable confession worth it. "Great! I have so much to tell you about! But first show me to the kitchen. I need to make sure that my boy is eating properly!"

Spock wasn't able to hide the slight quirk of his lips fast enough, and his mom tilted her head curiously. He knew that she'd be relentless until she figured out what had made him crack his usual stoic facade. "You bear a striking resemblance to several of my more excitable students."

For a moment, Spock was afraid that he'd offended his mother. But then she broke out into loud laughter. "Oh no! I can't believe that you think I'm so childish!" The smile on her face was wider than normal, and she seemed genuinely happy to be visiting Spock in his home. And Spock was happy to see her as well. "Since this is a special occasion, why don't we go out and try some ice cream? I've heard that it tastes extra good in the midwest."

"Very well. But you will allow me to pay for it, since you are my guest."

Amanda grinned as she set down her bags, and then headed back to the front door. "You have grown up into such a wonderfully polite gentleman. You're going to make someone very happy someday."

Spock tilted his head. "Have I not already made you happy today?"

There was a pause, and then Amanda laughed some more. "You got me there." She reached out to link her arm with Spock's. He wasn't usually fond of being touched, but his mother had always been an exception to many of his rules. He was content to let her lead the way, even though she had no idea where she was going, and Spock decided that this particular surprise was one that he could never dislike.


	6. Chapter 6

"Bones. Bones. Bones. Bones. Bones. Bones. Bo-"

"Alright, what do you want?" Bones looked up from where he'd had his head bent over his desk a moment ago, scribbling away at some random homework assignment. "You're seriously starting to get on my nerves."

Jim grinned. "Great, because that was exactly my intention. And you know what's really good for soothing gotten on nerves?" He gave a dramatic pause where Bones didn't bother responding, and then answered his own question. "Ice cream! Duh!"

Bones scowled, and looked back at his work. "I am not taking you out for ice cream. You already act enough like a hyperactive toddler as it is, and I really hate you when you're hopped up on sugar too."

Jim let out an overly dramatic groan. "But Bones! Light of my life, song of my heart, dollars of my wallet! I think that if I don't get any ice cream soon, I may quite literally die!"

"You might literally die when Mr. Spock finds out that you were too busy being a hooligan to actually do your assignment," Bones grumbled.

Jim flopped back on Bones' bed. "I already finished it ages ago. You're just being grumpy for the sake of it." He suddenly sat back up again, and if Bones were actually paying much attention to him, he could very well get whiplash as a side effect. "Bones! I'll do your homework for you if you take me out for ice cream!"  
"No." The answer was immediate, without a single chance to continue arguing about why his idea would be so beneficial for the both of them. "And nothing you say can possibly change my mind, so please just save both of us the trouble, and let me work in peace."

Jim pouted, even though his friend wasn't paying enough attention to him for it to be noticeable. "Whatever. I'm going to go hang out with Lizzie. I'm sure she wants to have ice cream with me. And we're just going to hang out, and talk about boys, and-"

Bones looked up from his assignment again, and he definitely sounded exasperated. "Jim, she's only seven."

Jim nodded once. "You're right. She's too young to really know her sexual orientation, and I have no right to be deciding it for her. We're going to talk about boys and girls and everything in between."

Bones groaned. "God, I really hate you sometimes." He abruptly stood up, shoving his chair back so hard that it fell over behind him. He didn't say anything right away, and instead took the opportunity to rummage around in his backpack, which had been lying on the bed next to Jim. He finally pulled out his wallet, and then jammed it into his pocket. "Alright, come on. It's not a trick, I promise. I'm going to get you some ice cream before you drive me completely up the wall. And then we are going to come back and do our homework in complete silence, got it?"

Jim didn't think he'd ever heard such a threatening offer of ice cream before, but he knew that Bones wouldn't actually hurt him, no matter how annoying he got. And right this very second was just very good proof of the fact that if he was annoying enough for long enough, he could get exactly what he wanted. It was a win-win, really, since Bones needed a break from all of his work, and Jim deserved a delicious treat just for being his usual self.

When they were downstairs, they carefully snuck past the living room where David and Eliza were relaxing and watching TV. It's not like Bones' dad would stop him from going out for a snack, but Eliza would definitely pester her brother to get her some as well, and Bones was already feeling irritated. Jim decided to wait until they got to the ice cream shop, and then he would beg for some extra ice cream on Eliza's behalf. He already knew her favorite flavor and toppings, so it wouldn't be too difficult to do.

They both loaded themselves up into Bones' old truck, which was a thing of great beauty no matter what Bones said about it, and made the quick trip to the ice cream shop. Just as Jim went to grab the door to pull it open, it swung open and smacked him right in the face. He took a few steps back, and refrained from swearing in case there were a lot of kids in the shop.

A pretty middle-aged woman hurried forward, her hair flying everywhere. "Oh gosh, I am so sorry. I promise that I don't normally go around assaulting teenagers. Are you alright?"

Jim sighed, and reached up to prod at his nose. It was sore, but it didn't feel broken. He just shrugged. "I'm fine. Guess you'll have to open the door even harder next time if you're hoping to do actual damage." He tilted his head curiously as he looked the woman up and down. "Sorry if this comes across as rude, but who are you? This is a pretty small town, and I don't think that I've ever seen you around before."

The woman grinned, and stuck out one hand. "Amanda. I'm just in town to visit my son…" she trailed off as she glanced behind her and saw that there was no one there. Then she turned back to Jim, still smiling. "He's probably trying to figure out 'the point' of ice cream, or something. Or he's still washing off the bit that someone else's kid accidentally threw at him. I guess today is just destined to be full of clumsy little moments."

The shop door opened smoothly a moment later, and Jim's eyes widened when Spock of all people stepped outside. He looked back and forth between Spock and Amanda, and though it wasn't great, he could make out a resemblance between them. Before he could ask in a way that would probably upset someone, Spock spoke. "Mother, you will most likely have difficulty navigating your way back to my apartment if you leave without me." Then he seemed to notice Jim and Bones for the first time, and he stiffened. Jim hadn't even realized that they'd been seeing him at his relaxed until he did that. "Mr. Kirk, Mr. McCoy."

Amanda's eyes widened, and she took a step closer to Jim. "Oh, so you're-" she cut herself off mid sentence, and then shook her head. "Sorry, no matter how I said that it would've come out wrong."

Bones was busy looking back and forth between Spock and Amanda with a curious gleam in his eyes that usually came before some disastrous incident that Bones was sure to blame Jim for. He peered up at Spock. "When did you convert?"

It was obvious from the look on his face that the question made Spock uncomfortable, but clearly Amanda had no qualms with answering anyways, because she just continued grinning. It seemed to be practically like her default setting. "Oh no, he was raised Vulcan. My husband is Vulcan as well, and I live with him in a Vulcan community."

A Vulcan married to a non-Vulcan? Jim didn't think he'd ever heard of something like that before. Biologically, they were all human, and would have no troubles with reproduction or anything, but emotionally, it just didn't seem like something that should work out. And it's not even like Amanda was particularly solemn for a non-Vulcan. How did dating a Vulcan even work? And why would a Vulcan choose to be with a non-Vulcan when they were most likely nothing more than a pesky irritant all of the time? It was a difficult concept to make sense of. But Jim figured that it wasn't his business to judge anyone for who they loved, even though it seemed like it should be a bit of a one-sided relationship.

Amanda must've been able to figure out something along the lines of what Jim was thinking, because she pressed her lips into a flat line for a moment before speaking. Then she leaned forward so that Jim and Bones would be able to hear her, while Spock would not. "I know it's probably hard to believe, but even Vulcans who are born that way are never truly emotionless. They're just afraid of getting hurt, in all meanings of the word. But fear itself is an emotion. Just don't point that out, because that'll make certain Vulcans rather angry. Which is another emotion. You have to look closer, but they feel just as deeply as anyone else." She took a step back, and cleared her throat. "It was lovely to meet you. Enjoy your ice cream. Turns out that it tastes the exact same in the midwest as it does everywhere else." She laughed as she grabbed Spock's arm and pulled him away. As they left, Jim could faintly hear her still. "Come on, we still have so much to see. Or at least you have…" then they were too far away for her words to be made out clearly.

Once they were out of hearing range, Jim turned to give his best friend a goofy grin. "Was I just hallucinating, or did that really happen? Because that was amazing. I can't believe Spock didn't tell us that he's got such an awesome mom."

Bones shrugged with one shoulder in an attempt to show that he didn't care, when Jim could tell that his friend was just as fascinated by the situation as he was. "I suppose it is a little unusual for a non-Vulcan and a Vulcan to get married and have children, but it's really none of our business, no matter how strange we find any of it."

Not listening to his friend, Jim was already lost in thought. "Just think of how many different ways we could use this against him." Then he gave Bones a wry grin. "What are we doing just standing out here when there's blessed air conditioning and ice cream inside?" He yanked the door open, and he decided that it was too much effort to be worried about his nose or about his teacher, or about the million other things that he could be worried about. Why worry at all when he was about to have his sweet tooth fulfilled?

As they stepped inside, and the cool air washed over both of the teenagers, they both let out sighs of relief at the refreshing feeling. But after a few seconds, they realized that no one else in the shop looked particularly happy, and they were all staring up at the TV behind the counter, which was playing the news. " _-only four left. Though one seems to be a suicide, when it comes following the first four deaths, it seems rather suspicious."_

" _Well, it is possible that she was frightened because of the previous deaths, and took her own life before something worse could happen. And officially, we're being told that there is no specific killer going after these people."_

" _They may be telling us that to avoid a mass panic, or to avoid scaring the remaining survivors, who are still anonymous- which brings up the question of how anyone knew their identities in the first place. Hypothetically, if there is a killer going after these people, where are they getting the names from? In all five deaths, the victim wasn't revealed to be a Tarsus survivor until after they were dead."_

" _Are you suggesting a conspiracy of some kind?"_

Jim wasn't sure what was going on exactly, but he knew that he wanted absolutely no part in it. Only one of those reporters sounded even remotely concerned, and neither of them really had any idea of what they were talking about. They talked as if they had any right to mention anything about Tarsus. They didn't understand at all. There's no way that any of the survivors would have killed themselves out of fear of being killed. Surviving Tarsus wasn't easy for any of the nine who'd made it through, and they'd only made it because they were willing to go as far as they had to in order to live. Someone who put that much effort and sacrifice into their survival wouldn't go and throw it all away just a few years later. Jim almost wished he knew who the remaining survivors were, but then he decided that it was better this way. They had all been kept anonymous for a reason.

He didn't say anything to Bones, since he wasn't even sure what there was to say in a situation like this. Instead, Jim just turned around and walked right back out of the ice cream shop. Suddenly he wasn't really in the mood for the sugary treat, and all he could think about was what it felt like to be so hungry that he could actually resort to- Jim cut off that line of thinking. He'd made it this far by shoving all of his experiences into some abyss in the back of his mind, so there was no point in changing up tactics now.

It must've taken Bones a few seconds to realize that his best friend had run off, but then he was running out of the shop like a madman, and ended up crashing right into Jim's back, clearly not expecting him to still be standing right there. Bones stepped around so that he was facing Jim, and looked at him with furrowed eyebrows. "Is this about…" he trailed off, looking more frustrated than usual. "What is this about?" Bones was smart, but he was working with the bare minimum of facts at the moment.

But no matter what, Jim could never tell Bones about what he'd been through. He was certain that Bones would immediately sever their friendship, and that was one of the only good things in Jim's life at the moment, so he couldn't afford to lose it. So instead of acting mopey and upset, he just grinned. "I thought I saw Spock through the window, and I was hoping that he and his mom would be coming back this way so that I could find a good way to pester him."

Clearly Bones didn't buy that explanation, but he was probably unwilling to get into a serious argument at the moment, and there were only so many times that Bones could assure Jim that he could talk to him about anything. He just heaved a sigh, and nodded towards the shop. "Are we going back in there or what?"

Jim would feel bad for dragging Bones all the way here only to walk away empty handed. He would just ask for Eliza's favorite ice cream, and give the whole thing to her when they got back to the McCoy household. Despite the fact that it was clearly ice cream weather out, it didn't take very long for them to get through the line, and get their treats. If Bones noticed that Jim didn't take a single taste of his on the ride home, he didn't mention it.

As soon as they were back, Jim sought out. "Special delivery for Miss Lizzie McCoy!"

She jumped up in excitement, and happily accepted the ice cream. She began eating it immediately, before her manners came back to her, and she grabbed Jim's hand to yank him down so that she could press a sticky kiss to his cheek. "Thank you!"

Jim laughed before heading into the kitchen to grab a wet paper towel to clean his hand and cheek. He wasn't sure how little kids managed to make messes out of everything without seeming to put any effort into it, but he thought that it was adorable. When he was all done, he headed back up to Bones' room, though he paused in the doorway when he saw that his friend was already back to doing his work, his cup of half-melted ice cream lying forgotten next to him. "I'm just going to head out now. Thanks for the ice cream."

He turned to go before Bones suddenly looked up at him, and his eyes seemed to burn a hole through the back of Jim's shirt. "Jim? Where was it that you went on vacation?" Jim couldn't even remember the last time he'd been on a vacation, so he said nothing, and Bones kept going. "It was a couple of years ago, and your mom and Frank wanted to take a cruise to celebrate their anniversary. They left you alone with Sam, and then you told me that he was sending you to live with your aunt for the summer so that he could have time to himself, but then you were gone for longer than just the summer, and you said that you were busy all the time, which is why you could never call. But I forget where it was that your aunt lived. You were there for like half a year I think, but it's strange that I can't remember a single story about your time there."

Jim felt frozen in place. His best friend was too smart for his own good. Bones might not be able to do all of his homework within minutes and stay at the top of the class with barely any effort, but that didn't mean that he wasn't smart all the same. But he couldn't lose his friend to the truth. If Bones knew about what really happened, about the things that Jim had done, then he'd hate him forever. He didn't turn around to face Bones, because he didn't think that he could look him in the eye without breaking down, but he did adopt what he hoped was a casual tone as he spoke to the wall across from Bones' room. "San Francisco. Big city, lots of things to do. I'm surprised that I never told you more about it. Though it was so long ago that even I can barely remember it now."

When Bones responded, he sounded less confident than before, and instead sounded almost scared. Which was totally wrong to hear from Bones, because he was supposed to be fearless. "Jim, if you're in danger-"

And oh boy, Jim hadn't even considered the fact that if there was someone going around killing the Tarsus survivors, he could be next on their list. How had that never even occurred to him? He felt like an idiot for not thinking of that. And he felt like an even bigger idiot for letting his friend worry about him for no reason. He quickly turned around to give Bones one of his usual smiles. "Danger? Don't worry, I doubt that even Frank would be able to dodge murder charges." He kept his tone light, as if he were just telling a funny joke. "Now I'm going to make my escape before you can try and force me to do any homework." Then he hurried away, hoping that he wasn't moving so fast that it would seem odd.

He left the McCoy house, and he couldn't help feeling a large amount of dread swelling up inside of him. Bones was persistent, and once he got an idea into his head, he wasn't likely to drop it without good reason. Jim just hoped he'd be able to fabricate such a reason, because he didn't want Bones digging any deeper into his past. He couldn't imagine going through the rest of his life without his best friend at his side, and there was no way that Bones could learn his truth and still want to remain friends. Which is why some things were best left as secrets, and Jim was going to do everything in his power to keep Tarsus buried far far away. As he walked home, he could feel rocks digging into his feet through the thin soles of his shoes, and he knew that they were going to leave ugly bruises, just like everything else in his life did.


	7. Chapter 7

Spock blinked a few times, and clearly the other person assumed that he was incompetent, because they felt the need to repeat themselves. "I said that Dr. Bella PhD had her babies, but I can't keep them all, so do you want any?" And then she thrust the cardboard box in her hands forward, as though that would convince Spock that he wasn't going crazy.

The good news was that he still seemed to be in complete control of his own mind. The bad news was that there was now a box full of newborn kittens resting in his arms. Not that there was anything inherently wrong with the kittens themselves, but Spock had no idea what he was supposed to do with them. And he also knew that the building didn't allow any pets, so it was beyond his understanding as to why his neighbor had a pregnant cat in the first place. One who'd apparently gotten her doctorate? He wasn't quite sure how a cat was able to manage such a feat, but he was sure that there were stranger things that had happened.

After a couple of seconds, his neighbor narrowed her eyes and put her hands on her hips. "Well do you want any of them or not?"

Of course Spock didn't want any. He had no use for a cat. "What will you do for the ones who are not claimed?"

A slightly guilty look crossed the woman's face, but then she just shrugged. "I don't know. I'll find them a shelter with open space or something. Wouldn't want anything bad to happen to the cuties, huh?"

Spock peered down into the box so that he could get a closer look at the kittens. He tilted his head curiously at the way they interacted. There were four of them in the box, and three of them were getting up and tumbling around with each other in jerky movements that betrayed their young age. The fourth was curled up in one corner, and if Spock were good at naming emotions, he might even say that it was looking at the other three disdainfully. While the others were mewling, that one was silent, but it didn't seem to be opening and closing its mouth to even attempt to talk, which meant it was intentionally silent.

Something about that single kitten did catch Spock's eye, but he really didn't have any use for a pet. And he didn't want to risk getting kicked out for breaking the rules of the building that he'd agreed to, especially over something as pointless as the small and silent animal. And yet, without even realizing it, he shifted the box to balance it on one arm while he used his newly freed hand to reach in and gently touch the top of the quiet kitten's head. The pure white fur was softer than Spock had expected, and he watched in fascination as the kitten clumsily got to its feet to butt its head against Spock's fingers. He could also see that the kitten had bright blue eyes. "All these come from the same parents?"

The woman nodded. "Yeah. I know, it's so weird that the runt is colored like that when the rest look like normal tabbies. I think it's some kind of mutation or some shit like that. I don't really care, though."

A mutation? That made sense, and there were probably plenty of animals born with interesting mutations, but Spock couldn't help feeling drawn to this particular cat. If it remained quiet all the time, then no one else would have to know that he was storing it in his apartment. And cats were animals that required less time and attention, right, so it wouldn't be too bothered by him being at school all day? No, what was he thinking? He didn't need a pet.

As he stood there and didn't say anything, the woman rolled her eyes, and reached out to take the box back. "Whatever, weirdo. I should've known that Vulcans don't like cats." She turned to walk away, presumably off to try and pawn her cats onto the other residents of the building.

Before he could even really think it over, Spock took a step towards her. "I'll take one." He reached into the box to carefully scoop up the kitten, which was small enough that it could comfortably rest on his palm without sticking out over any of the sides.

The woman shrugged. "Suit yourself. If the super asks, you didn't get it from me." Then she wandered off with the other three kittens.

Once she was gone, Spock went back inside his apartment, and wondered if maybe he was going just a little bit crazy after all. He didn't think anyone could really blame him for that, considering the fact that he was now a high school teacher. But he was breaking rules just to have a living creature that would depend on him for everything. What was he thinking? Too bad his mother had already returned home two days ago, because she would probably help him figure all of this out.

He closed the door to his apartment, and then tried to think about the supplies he would need. Probably a pet bed, definitely some cat food. Maybe some of those cat toys he'd seen in the store before. And he'd have to take it- he lifted the kitten up to do a quick check. And he'd have to take her to a veterinarian to be given all of the appropriate shots, and to get her fixed. Even though the kitten herself hadn't cost anything, this was still going to turn out to be a costly enterprise to take on.

Well, there was no point in waiting to get that stuff done. He quickly looked up the nearest veterinarian's offices, and then chose the one with the highest reviews. He didn't have any proper storage unit for the kitten so he did a quick search of his apartment before taking a large glass bowl that he normally used to make salads, put a small wash cloth in it, and then gently placed the kitten inside. It wasn't ideal, but it would work until he got more supplies.

The drive to the veterinarian was mostly uneventful, because either the kitten was too young to want to move around everywhere, or was somehow well enough behaved to know that she should remain inside the bowl. He was able to get an appointment almost as soon as he walked into the office thanks to the fact that this wasn't exactly a huge town, so the three different veterinarians offices were most likely always competing for business with each other.

As he sat down to fill out all of the paperwork that the secretary had given him on a clipboard, he skipped over the section that asked for his pet's name, because he didn't think that it mattered whether he offered the kitten a name or not. It was just a kitten, and as such, was highly unlikely to comprehend the English language enough to understand something like a name.

Once he'd filled out everything that he could, he brought the clipboard back up to the secretary. She glanced down at it for a moment, then looked back up at Spock. "Don't have a name for her yet?"

Spock glanced into the bowl he was carrying, and then shook his head. "Negative."

The secretary hummed thoughtfully. "Well, you should try to think of one as soon as possible. It'll make it a lot easier to train her and bond with her. You still have a couple minutes before Dr. Marcus will be ready to see you, so maybe you could use that time to think of something. Not that there's any hurry, of course." She smiled politely, and then started typing something on the computer that was resting on the desk in front of her.

After a few seconds of standing there, wondering if he should put lots of thought and effort into the name or not, he decided to just go for it, and cleared his throat. "I believe I have come up with a name. I-Chaya."

The woman blinked a couple of times, but her smile didn't fade away. "Certainly a unique one, isn't it?" She handed the clipboard and pen back to Spock so that he could write out the name without worrying about the woman spelling it wrong.

Before he could sit back down, a young woman walked into the room, leading a large happy looking dog on a leash. "See ya in a few months, Tina!"

The secretary stood up and walked over to the woman so that they could exchange pleasantries. Another woman walked into the room a moment later. She had short blonde hair cut into a bob, and was wearing a white doctor's coat. She looked around the empty waiting room before focusing on Spock. "Hello, I'm Dr. Marcus."

"I am Spock, and this is I-Chaya."

He held up the bowl so that the doctor could see into it, and she immediately let out a soft coo, and reached in to scratch the kitten's head. "Aw, she's so adorable." She walked over to the secretary's desk to grab the papers Spock had filled out. "Tina, I'm taking this!" she called over to the busy woman. Then she looked back at Spock. "Come on, follow me."

They got into a small examination room, and Spock put the bowl down on the table. I-Chaya looked around slowly, then leapt up over the edge of the bowl, surprisingly graceful for one still so young. He cautiously reached over to pet the top of her head, and she seemed perfectly content to have his attention.

After quickly reading Spock's papers, Dr. Marcus leaned over to get a closer look at I-Chaya. "Well, her eyes are open and she seems to be moving around without too much difficulty, so I'd say she's probably around two weeks old or so. But you don't know anything about her parents?"

Spock started to shake his head, then paused as he tried to think of everything that his neighbor had mentioned. "I believe that the others in the liter were 'tabbies'."

Dr. Marcus nodded, and scribbled that down onto her clipboard. She continued to examine I-Chaya for a few minutes, and Spock was pleased to see the kitten be perfectly cooperative, and then she looked back at Spock. "So I think she just needs some basic vaccinations, and then you can schedule an appointment for her to be spayed."

It didn't take very long for the shots to be dealt with, and Dr. Marcus sounded delighted to inform Spock that he'd been blessed with a very well behaved little kitty. Then he went back to the front desk to pay his bill and make an appointment to get I-Chaya fixed, which ended up being made for four months in the future.

After that was all taken care of, he headed to the nearest pet store to buy all of the things that Dr. Marcus had recommended he get for the cat. When they returned to his apartment and he laid everything out, I-Chaya ignored the pet bed, and wandered over to the water bowl to begin drinking. "You are going to be rather spoiled, aren't you?" Spock muttered. Then he silently berated himself for talking to a creature that had no ability to understand him, let alone respond.

It wasn't until his phone rang that Spock realized just how long he'd simply been following his pet around the apartment and carefully observing all of her actions. He fumbled to answer his phone, and though he forget to check the caller ID, he was pretty sure that it was just his mother. He waited silently until the caller Spock. "Spock? Is everything alright? I was a little concerned when you didn't call me."

Spock sank down into his desk seat, and watched with one eyebrow arched as he watched I-Chaya stretched her claws out for the first time so that she could cling to Spock's pants, and she climbed up his leg until she was perched on his lap. She was rather agile for a baby. And then she nudged Spock's free hand until he got the message that she wanted to be pet. "I apologize, Mother. I'm afraid that I found myself to be rather distracted today."

"Oh? You wouldn't happen to have found any particularly interesting women, would you?"

Most of the women Spock had met lately were interesting, if only because their non-Vulcan ways were so strange in comparison to everything he'd been raised to know. But he got the feeling that that wasn't quite what his mother meant, even if he didn't actually know what she did mean. But he hadn't been distracted by any women today, because I-Chaya was still a baby. "No, Mother. But I have obtained a pet."

There was a moment of silence, and then Amanda let out an excited squeal. "You did? Oh, that's amazing! What did you get? What made you change your mind?" Before Spock had officially moved away, his mother had suggested several times that he might want to get a pet in order to help make himself feel less lonely, but he'd turned all of her suggestions down.

"A cat, and I have named her I-Chaya. I can send you pictures of her once this phone call is over."

His mother definitely sounded way too excited about him getting a pet. "I'm so happy for you Spock. Even if that is a rather strange name." There was a long stretch of silence, and then when Amanda spoke again, she had an odd tone to her voice. "There's actually something important that I wanted to talk to you about. Your brother came to visit, and he was wondering if he could get your number so that he could get into contact with you. Of course, I wasn't going to give our any of your information without permission, but he seemed very eager to speak with you, and-"

"Mother," Spock couldn't keep a slight tinge of annoyance out of his voice, no matter how non-Vulcan that made him for the duration of that moment. "Sybok is no brother of mine."

She sighed, and sounded resigned, as though she had expected that answer. "You two were so very close when you were younger. I understand that you're disappointed he chose the non-Vulcan path, but I have never been Vulcan, and that's never seemed to bother you."

Spock wasn't sure he could really describe what it was about his half-brother that truly bothered him the most. The man came across as a complete heretic, and when Spock was still just a teenager, Sybok had tried to overthrow the Vulcan High Council, claiming that embracing emotions was the true path to the best life. He wasn't able to gather enough followers, though, and the Council simply banished him from all Vulcan communities besides the one where his family resided. But he had left anyways, and no one had heard from him in almost fifteen years at this point. "I do not wish to speak with him."

Amanda sighed again. "Very well, Spock. I shall pass along that message, though perhaps in a more tactful way. He'll probably leave as soon as I tell him. Your father didn't seem very happy to see him either."

They were both silent for a minute, before Spock spoke. "I believe that I-Chaya wishes for my full attention at the moment. I will talk to you at some point soon." Then he hung up, and looked down at the kitten, who was still completely silent, but looking at Spock almost judgmentally. Was it possible for a cat to look judgemental?

Curious about his pet, Spock decided to look up the answer. He found many accounts of other people claiming that there cats were 'judgemental bastards' and then several articles about the ways that cats could show affection. He ended up reading more articles about cats than he'd planned on, but when he finally closed his browser and looked at I-Chaya, he couldn't help thinking that he still didn't really know anything about her. She didn't seem to be like any of the other cats that he read about.

Spock got up, carefully transferring I-Chaya into her hands so that she wouldn't fall to the floor, and then he walked into the bathroom. He'd read that he should keep a second bed for I-Chaya in there so that she would be right near the little box all night, and he put her down onto the bed. Then he headed into the bedroom so that he could get changed and go to sleep.

As he turned off the lights and closed his eyes, ready to drift off, he felt a slight pressure on his stomach, and he peered down to see that I-Chaya had managed to climb up onto the bed, and curl up onto his stomach. She met his gaze, and then pushed her face down, nudging her nose against Spock's stomach before letting out a very faint mew.

"Alright, if you could get up here on your own, then I suppose you deserve to be able to stay. Just make sure to use the litter box if you feel the need to relieve yourself at any point. And please try to avoid scratching me in your sleep." Then he closed his eyes again, and found that the little weight on him was actually kind of nice.


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N- Warning for explicit child abuse. And also some vomiting. Skip down to the three commas if you aren't comfortable reading that**

"'Ey, Jimmy, you're home," Frank slurred drunkenly as soon as Jim walked in through the front door of the house. He took a deep breath in to remind himself to remain calm and patient, but all it really accomplished was giving him a heavy whiff of the nasty alcohol that Frank liked to binge on sometimes. He knew that logically, there had to be some adults who could drink a small amount of alcohol in a single sitting without practically pouring an entire bar down their throats, but he'd yet to actually find any such adults.

Not wanting to stick around when Frank was so clearly inebriated, Jim turned to walk right back out the front door. It wouldn't be the first time he'd spent the night in the backyard, and then snuck back inside to go up to his room in the early morning. In fact, the ground outside was pretty comfortable, despite the fact that neither Frank nor Jim's mom bothered to take care of the yard at all. Or maybe it was just because anything felt more comfortable than sleeping on bruises.

Before Jim could leave the house, though, Frank reached out to snatch the back of Jim's shirt and yank him back in, nearly choking him in the process. "And where do you think you're going? Just because you're a useless little brat doesn't mean you can't pull your own weight around here. I came home tripping over garbage everywhere. Is it really so much to ask that you clean up after yourself every once in a while?"

Jim frowned. "I do. Everything I own is in my room. Unless you were tripping around in my room, the only garbage that you were stumbling over was yours. If you're that bothered about it, then hire a maid. Otherwise, just leave me the hell alone."

Frank let go of Jim's shirt, but before he could scamper off and go up the stairs, Frank grabbed his arm, squeezing tightly enough for it to hurt. Jim tried to pull his arm free, but Frank's grip was like iron. "You're so disrespectful, all the time. Talking back, and sneaking in from whatever skank's house you spent the night with, and leaving your shit lying around everywhere, and yelling at your mom when she's just trying to do her best, and acting all high and mighty just 'cause you've gotten a few mediocre test scores. What makes you think that you're so much better than the rest of us, huh? What's so great about you, huh?"  
"Nothing," Jim muttered. "I can't think of a single thing that's great about me."

Frank scoffed, and yanked Jim closer by holding his arm up in the air above them. "You can't fool me. You may be able to fool everyone else in this town, but you're no prince charming. You're just a stupid, ugly, little shit who does nothing but make everybody around you completely miserable. Your mom and I would both me so much happier if you just stopped existing. What purpose do you even serve, huh? Got your daddy killed, scared off your brother who was always meant for good things, stopped your mom from being able to do the job she loved. What's the point of you being alive? Huh?" Jim could feel his heart pounding faster in his chest the more that Frank spoke. No matter how many times he'd heard it all before, it never got any easier.

Jim tried frantically to pull his arm away, but Frank still didn't let go. He reached up with his free hand to scratch at Frank's arm with his nails, and then Frank swore under his breath and took a few stumbled steps back, letting go of Jim's arm in the process. There was a dark purple mark in the shape of a handprint across his lower arm. He knew that now would be a great time to make a break for his room and lock himself in, but he couldn't curb the urge to ask something he'd been wondering for years. "What the hell did I ever do to you?"

"You existed!" Frank spat. "You ruined everything. You always have. It's your fault that-!" he cut himself off to lurch forward and expel the entire contents of his stomach across the floor.

Jim didn't even care that the vomit splattered across the tops of his shoes and the bottom of his jeans. "What's my fault?" He did his best to keep his voice steady, and hoped that Frank would continue talking. He'd heard all of it before, but something about the way Frank had said that it was his fault that last time made Jim think that he was talking about something else entirely.

Frank took a step forward, right into the puddle of his sick, apparently not bothered by the way his heavy step made it splash around. For a moment, Jim actually thought that his stepfather was going to answer his question. He should've known better than that. Instead, Frank shoved Jim back hard enough that his head collided against the wall with a loud thud. "Mind your own business, you disgusting little monster." He stomped in the direction of the downstairs bathroom, then glanced back, his eyes scanning over the nasty footsteps he'd trailed across the floor. "And clean all of this up before your mother gets home," he muttered before going into the bathroom and slamming the door shut behind him.

Jim slowly slid down to the floor, with his back pressed up against the wall, and he squeezed his eyes shut to try and hold in the tears that were building up. God, how nice must it be to be Vulcan? If he wasn't so emotional, he wouldn't have to deal with the painful throbbing in the back of his head, or the bruise on his arm, or the stinging in his heart, or the million other things that he'd suffered through. After letting himself sit and wallow in misery for a minute, he forced himself to get back to his feet, and to carefully make his way to the kitchen to grab the cleaning supplies. He may as well clean up the mess before anyone else stepped in it.

,,,

Technically, the playground was meant for little kids, as evidenced by the fact that it was part of the elementary school grounds. But when it wasn't school hours, the kids all went to the big park in the center of town instead of the tiny school one, which meant that Jim usually had the place to himself.

He carefully lowered himself down onto one of the swings, though he kept his toes dug into the dirt beneath him, and didn't let himself move anymore than gently swaying back and forth. He didn't want to risk anything more vigorous than that in case he had a concussion. He certainly felt nauseous enough to have one, but that could also just be because of the fact that he hadn't eaten in two entire days.

Because he was used to always being left alone when he chose to hang out at this particularly playground, he was surprised to hear a rustling over the leaves, and he quickly looked up. Though he regretted that when the sudden movement made his stomach roll in circles. He didn't bother trying to get up, especially when he couldn't see any people around.

Then he realized that the one who'd snuck into his hiding place was a cat. A very small cat. He hadn't noticed her at first because her white fur was covered in grime, and she hadn't made a single noise besides stepping on that one patch of leaves. He blinked a few times, and then offered up what he hoped was a friendly smile. "Hey there. Looks like I'm not the only one who didn't know where else to go today, huh?" The cat slowly walked closer, and then stopped and sat down just a couple of feet in front of him. He carefully eased his way off of the swing, and then knelt down in front of the dirty kitty so that he could pet her. "You must be so pretty when you're not all covered in much." As he pet her, his hands ran over a solid piece, and he realized that there was a collar buried beneath her tangled up fur. "Someone must be missing you pretty badly right now," he told her as he slid his hands around the collar to find the tag. He gently lifted it and scratched off the dirt that had built up there. "I-Chaya? That's an unusual name…" he trailed off as he saw that there was a phone number etched into the tag as well. "It would be irresponsible of me to not try and get you home. Not like I can take you home with me. Sorry, but you wouldn't be well received there."

He scooped up the cat, who seemed surprisingly okay with him just bringing her along with him, and walked in the direction of the very trashy bar Frank always went to. There was a phone booth right outside of it that always had an out of order sign on it, despite the fact that it worked perfectly fine.

Jim closed himself into the booth and dug through his pockets for change so that he could call the number listed on the collar. He was lucky that he had enough, or else he'd be rather out of luck. The phone rang once before a very familiar voice answered. "This is Spock."

Jim blinked a few times, and looked at the cat again. Had he dialed the wrong number? He couldn't imagine Spock being a cat person. And yet the odds of him dialing a wrong number and getting Spock of all people also seemed pretty slim. "Uh, hi. This is Jim Kirk. Before you start worrying that I'm some kind of creepy stalked who hacked into your school records to find your phone number, or anything like that, I wanted to let you know that I'm pretty sure I found your cat."

There was a brief pause, where Jim thought that maybe Spock would tell him that he was crazy, and that Vulcans don't have pets because it involves an emotional attachment that their incapable of, Spock spoke again. "Thank you very much, Mr. Kirk. I had noticed I-Chaya's disappearance three days ago, and had begun to suspect that she would not be found." Though his voice was perfectly monotone, Jim got the feeling that Spock had actually been rather worried about his missing cat. Maybe Amanda had been right about Vulcans having more emotions than they claimed. "If you know of a suitable place we can rendezvous at to ensure the return of my pet, that would be much appreciated." He hesitated for a moment before continuing. "You were not in school today."

If Spock had asked him why he'd been absent, Jim probably would've gotten overly defensive about it. As it was, he mainly just felt tired. He glanced down at his dirty clothes, and shook his head. "Maybe it would be easier to just tell me somewhere I could drop her off that you'd be able to find her. It would be inappropriate for students and teachers to be meeting up outside of school, right?" He wouldn't want Spock to get worried, or whatever the Vulcan equivalent of that was. Jim was just bad at dealing with his problems, and usually solved them by aggressively avoiding them. But he planned on going home tonight, if only to get some food and take a hot shower, and he was pretty sure that Spock would want his cat back before that.

"I find it hard to believe that anyone would mistake a missing cat being returned as anything other than what it is. I don't mean to impose on you, but I would appreciate getting I-Chaya back as soon as is possible."

Jim sighed, but he'd feel too guilty just putting the cat down and telling Spock to grab her from the phone booth. She might wander off before then. Or he could trap her inside, but that seemed like a cruel thing to do, especially to a cat who was acting as kind and patiently as this one was. "Ugh, fine, fine, I get it. It would be a dick move to just try and ditch your cat somewhere." He quickly paused to assess his body, and came to the conclusion that he really wasn't feeling up to walking back across town, though he would if he absolutely had to. "Do you know where the Riverside Bar and Grill is? I'm there right now."

"Yes, I am aware of where that is. I should be there in approximately thirteen point three five minutes." Then he hung up without another word.

Jim rolled his eyes, but he knew that he couldn't judge a Vulcan's level of rudeness by the non-Vulcan standards. He turned around, and it made everything around him look like it was swaying. The toss up between concussion and hunger was still going strong, but whichever diagnosis it was, Jim knew that he had to sit down if he didn't want to collapse.

Not wanting to actually go inside the bar, at the risk of coming across Frank or any of his numerous asshole friends, Jim slowly sank down to sit on the floor of the phone booth. The space wasn't big enough for him to stretch his legs out, so he just curled his knees up to his chest, and then perched the cat on top of his knees so that they were face to face. She still didn't seem particularly bothered by anything going on. She seemed to be a rather stoic cat. Maybe that's what made her tolerable to Spock despite the fact that he was a Vulcan.

Jim didn't even realize that he'd drifted off into a fitful sleep until his legs suddenly fell forward and he jolted up out of surprise, which made him feel like he was going to puke. It was a good thing that he didn't have anything in his stomach to throw up anyways. He blinked and watched dumbly as the cat calmly leapt to the ground, and trotted over to Spock, who knelt down to pick her up.

Then Spock turned his full attention on Jim, and his usually blank mask was definitely showing off some kind of emotion, even if it was beyond Jim's ability at the moment to figure out what it was. "Mr. Kirk, are you alright?"

Jim tried to stand up to prove that he was perfectly fine, but he got dizzy from the movement, and fell right back down onto his butt. "Yeah," he managed to get out through gritted teeth. He must've had a very emotional dream or something, because many of his older pains seemed to be returning, as they hadn't gotten the chance to entirely heal yet. "I'm fine, Spock. You can take your cat and go."

At first, Jim thought that the teacher would actually listen to him. Apparently Jim just wasn't very good at reading anyone these days. "I cannot in good conscience leave you in what is clearly suboptimal conditions."

"And what do you think you can possibly do for me?" Jim asked softly. He didn't want to raise his voice and make his own headache worse. "Sometimes life just sucks, and that's the way it is."

Spock tilted his head, but didn't make any move to reach out and touch Jim. He just continued to pet the cat with one hand. "I have heard speculation from multiple sources that you do not live in a safe home environment. I was hesitant to say anything, because such accusations would have serious consequences for your parents, and I would not wish to evoke those consequences without knowing for sure. So I wish to ask you directly now. Do you live in an unsafe home environment?"

Jim had lived in a dangerous environment before. He couldn't possibly imagine anything worse than Tarsus had been. By comparison, his home here was just fine and dandy. "No. Now can you please leave me alone?"

Spock glanced straight up at the sky, which was getting darker and darker. Then he looked back at Jim. "I must insist on at least offering you a ride back to your home. You should not have to walk all the way back when you are clearly in pain."

Jim narrowed his eyes. "Just leave me alone, man. I'm not in the right mood to be able to deal with you right now. I'll just call Bones for a ride."

That seemed to confuse Spock somewhat. "I'm afraid that you are delirious at the moment. Perhaps the best course of action would be to take you to the hospital."

Jim shook his head. "I don't need your help. I don't need anyone's help. I never have, and I-" He forced himself to his feet, clinging to the phone to keep him steady. "I don't need any more stupid adults who think they know how to fix everything trying to interfere with my life when they don't even know anything about it or me!" He took a step forward to shove Spock away, when the cat suddenly darted forward, and he ended up tripping right over her. Spock immediately sprung up to catch Jim. The sudden movement was too much, and Jim groaned before his eyes slid shut and everything went dark.


	9. Chapter 9

As Spock made breakfast, he heard soft groaning coming from the couch. He'd known as soon as he headed home last night that this situation could look very bad for him, but James had seemed very opposed to the idea of a hospital, and Spock didn't feel comfortable sending the unconscious boy home, considering the state he was in. Spock didn't like being put in this position, but he was also glad that it had been him to discover James and not someone who would injure the boy further. Not that he really had any evidence to say that someone in James' home had hurt him, but his own best friend, along with several trusted adults, seemed certain that that was indeed the case.

He walked over to the couch where he'd laid out James the night before, knowing that the chivalry of offering up his bed would only go beyond inappropriate, and crouched down to get a better look at James. The boy was covered in filth and blood, and Spock was definitely going to have to give his couch a thorough scrubbing later. But logically, the health and safety of a human being was more important than a piece of furniture that would never be a productive member of society.

James' eyes rolled around beneath his eyelids for a few seconds before finally flickering open. He blinked a few times at Spock, and then scooted so his back was pressed against the arm of the couch, and his legs were curled up to his chest. His eyes flicked around the room for a moment before settling back on Spock, and they seemed full of distrust, if Spock's ability to detect emotions was anything to go by. "Is this your house? Why am I here?" His voice sounded hoarse, and Spock wondered how long it had been since the boy had last gotten anything to eat or drink.

He offered up a glass of water, but James just stared at him instead of accepting it, and he narrowed his eyes at Spock. Spock wanted to point out how illogical it was to worry about questions before his own well being, but he had already figured out that James Kirk was particularly illogical, even for a non-Vulcan, so he figured that it would be best to answer the questions. "Yes, you are currently in my apartment. I brought you here because you seemed opposed to the idea of a hospital, and I was unsure of your home address. And it would be irresponsible of me to leave you as you were. You are injured, and don't appear to have cleaned yourself or had access to food in two or three days. You would have been susceptible to infection and potentially death if I left you as you were." He offered the glass of water again, and this time, James actually took it. And he was smart enough to not start chugging it down, instead taking small sips. Spock stood back up. "All that being said, you should probably clean yourself off. I have a shower you can use after you eat."

James sighed, but then nodded. "Thanks, I guess," he muttered. "Not like I asked for your help, though."

Spock wasn't sure what to say to that, since it was true, so he just returned to the kitchen to retrieve the food he'd prepared. Normally he wouldn't want anyone eating on the couch, at the risk of staining it or getting crumbs in all the little crevices, but since the couch was going to have to be completely clean anyways, or maybe even replaced, he figured he could make an exception. And there was the fact that he didn't want James getting any other furniture ruined. If he could keep the mess contained to a single space, then that's exactly what he would do.

With the food, James acted the same as he did with the water, smartly taking small bites, and waiting in between each to avoid making himself sick. James was a very intelligent person, and could possibly know how to deal with eating after starving from some prior research, but Spock couldn't help wondering if he had to deal with starvation in his home.

Once James finished eating, getting through everything on the plate that Spock had prepared based on several internet articles that claimed to know how to treat someone's stomach gently after starvation, he led James to the bathroom. Then he quickly came to the conclusion that between a naked teenager, and one wearing his clothes, he would prefer the latter, so Spock found a pair of sweatpants and tee shirt for James, along with a towel and an unopened toothbrush.

At the sight of the clothes, James arched one eyebrow, and looked the closest that he had to smiling since Spock had found him last night. "I never imagined you being the kind of guy to have leisure clothes like these."

Spock shrugged. "It would not be logical to exercise in the clothes I wear to work, as they would be too restrictive, and more expensive to replace."

James' eyes widened. "Whoa, you work out? So you've got some impressive muscles going on under all the boring nerdy exterior?"

Spock didn't think he could remember a time where James had ever spoken so openly about what was on his mind. Was it a side effect of suffering through so much pain at the moment? Or did he feel more comfortable talking to Spock outside of the school environment? "Just because we are outside of school does not stop me from being a teacher. Please show the same respect you would any other day," he said more stiffly than he'd intended.

There was a brief moment of silence, and then James nodded. "Sure. Sorry about that." Then he went into the bathroom closing and locking the door behind him. Spock could hear the sound of the shower starting a minute later, and then he headed to his desk so that he could work on grading papers.

He paused halfway through his stack to give the couch a disdainful couch, even if it was illogical to blame an inanimate object for its flaws. He glanced down when he felt a soft pressure against his ankle, and saw that I-Chaya had just head butt him. She looked clean and shiny thanks to the bath Spock had given her last night, and he knelt down next to her to give her the attention she was asking for. "I am aware that you are only a cat, and yet I cannot help but wonder about you. Did you find James Kirk on purpose because you knew he needed help?"

I-Chaya, obviously, didn't respond the question. Instead she abruptly took off, apparently having gotten pet enough for now. He watched her go, and then looked back at the couch. It was probably for the best to consider it a casualty of saving James. And though Vulcans had no need to logically care for the aesthetics of their living spaces, he couldn't help feeling as though he'd always been burdened by that couch. He'd only accepted it because his father had given it to him as a gift to furnish his apartment, and his father so rarely gave him gifts. His father also seemed to have less than admirable taste in furniture, though.

While he was contemplating what exactly to do with the couch, and where to buy the most cost efficient replacement, he heard the sound of someone clearing their throat, and he turned to see James standing behind him. The teenager looked younger than usual due to the way Spock's clothes were clearly too large on him, but he looked clean and comfortable, which was what mattered. James nodded towards the couch as if he'd been able to read Spock's mind. "Sorry about that. I'll clean everything up, I promise."

Spock shook his head. "It is of no matter. I have decided to get rid of this couch."

One corner of James' mouth quirked up in a small smile. "Yeah, it's kind of an ugly thing. I just didn't want to say that and hurt your feelings."

It would be easy enough to remind James that Vulcans couldn't get hurt feelings, but he decided that he preferred it when James had a playful tone to his voice, versus when he sounded cold and sad. "I cannot be certain of how much you remember from last night due to your condition, but I had inquired about your home life, and you told me that it was fine. If that is truly the case, then I believe you should call your parents to let them know that you are safe."

The way James' mouth instantly pressed into a flat line, and one of his eyes twitched a little bit, seemed like a pretty clear indicator of the fact that all was not well in his home. But what could Spock do about it? According to Leonard McCoy, child protective services had already investigated James' home many times, but nothing had come out of it. "Sure. I'll call them. Or I could just head home now, make 'em feel even better by seeing me in person. We can't be that far away, even if the thirteen minutes from the bar is in the opposite direction of my house. I'll just go and see my parents and everything will be super happy and fun and no harm done." He sounded like he was bordering on maniacal as he spoke.

Spock furrowed his eyebrows. "If there are problems in your home that are causing you harm, then why are you so resistant to stepping forward and telling the truth of it? You must know how many people would believe you and support you."

A look briefly flashed across James' face, but it was too quick for someone like Spock to recognize what it was. "I'm not saying that there's anything dangerous going on in my house," James said softly, "but if there was, it would be none of your business. I should really be getting home now. Like you said, my folks must be pretty worried right now. It was foolish of me to- I should be going," he repeated.

Spock didn't want to hold James captive here, but he thought that it would be illogical to leave now. "You may have showered, but you still have injuries that need to be attended to. I did not wish to invade your personal space while you were unconscious, so I was unable to treat any of your wounds last night. At least allow me to administer basic first aid if you are not planning on seeing a doctor."

James put his hands on his hips. "Why are you acting like you care about me?"

It felt like a big confession, but if Spock wanted anyone to understand, for some strange reason, it was the kid standing in front of him. "I may be Vulcan, but I-"

He hadn't expected James to cut him off in the middle of a sentence. "I know that Vulcans have feelings. It's got to be impossible to not have any at all, and your mom told me that you do. I'm not asking how you could care; I know Vulcans can. I'm asking why you're acting like you care about me?" He put emphasis on the word 'me'. "No one else does so why even bother pretending?" And James didn't sound bitter or angry or hurt, he just sounded resigned. Like whatever Spock said was going to be exactly what he was expecting.

Having grown up showered in far more love than he was comfortable with, thanks to having Amanda as a mother, Spock had always, rather illogically, let himself assume that all non-Vulcan children were treated the same way. But it was foolish of him to think so. There were plenty of Vulcan parents who cared deeply for their children, and plenty of non-Vulcan parents who didn't. It had nothing to do with how many emotions they claimed to have, and everything to do with just being bad parents, or bad people in general. And James' parents had to be particularly bad if they had him honestly believing that no one cared about him.

"You are my student, and I care about all of my students. And you know that there are others who care for you as well. Leonard McCoy, and several of your other classmates, have been very worried about you whenever you are not able to make it class. There is no reason for you to believe that no one cares about you." Spock reached out to gently grab James' arm to stop him from bolting away, but he didn't think that through very well.

James flinched away and took a couple of steps back, but then he paused there to give Spock a challenging look. "What do you want from me?"

Spock had never experienced a situation like this before. What was one supposed to do when faced with someone who got so defensive over something like recieving first aid? "I simply wish to make sure your injuries are disinfected, and that you do not have any serious damage."

For some reason, that elicited a loud snort from James. "I'm pretty sure that it's way beyond too late to make sure I don't have any serious damage."

"What is wrong? Is there any extreme pain? Or-"

"Why do you have any first aid supplies anyways?" James rudely interrupted.

Spock blinked once before answering. "My mother is non-Vulcan. And I occasionally have other visitors over, and prefer to be prepared in case of any emergency that might arise. It is helpful to have in situations such as this."

There was a short pause, and then James sighed. "Look, I get that you think that I can be your charity case good deed of the day, or whatever, but it's not like that. I appreciate you giving me a place to sleep for the night, but I'm really fine. I don't need your help, or your interference, or-"

Before James could finish talking about all the things he didn't need Spock for, the sound of Spock's ringtone went off. He pulled his phone out of his pocket, and saw that his mother. He couldn't just ignore a call from her, even if this was an unusual situation. "Mother, now isn't the best-"

"Spock, I'm really really sorry." She sounded a little bit panicked, which was worrisome because she very rarely worried, and Spock turned his back on James in the hopes that it would keep this conversation private. His mother rushed on before he could ask what was going on. "I know you said you don't want Sybok to have your contact information, but your father doesn't use a password on his phone, so he looked through it for your information, but we didn't realize until your father saw the imprint of your phone number on a pad of paper he keeps on your desk. He might use it to call you or text or track down your location, and as soon as I found out, I knew I had to warn you. I'm so so sorry."

Spock took in a deep breath, then slowly let it out. "It isn't your fault, Mother. And I appreciate your warning, but I have other-" he couldn't help closing his eyes briefly when he heard his apartment door slam shut. "I will call you later, Mother." She agreed in a teary sounding voice, and then he quickly hung up and stepped out of the apartment just in time to see the elevator at the end of the hallway sliding shut. He could rush down the stairs to cut James off in the lobby, but he didn't think that making the teen feel like a criminal on the run would be helpful to anyone. He just wished he could understand why James was so angry at the thought of accepting any help, or admitting that he didn't have a great home life.

He retreated back into his apartment, feeling like he'd just lost at a game he hadn't been aware of playing, and then feeling annoyed for the internal usage of another non-Vulcan metaphor. As he turned around after locking the door, he nearly tripped right over I-Chaya, the same way James had tripped over her last night. He crouched down to give her a few absent minded pats. "What am I supposed to do now? I've never felt quite so helpless before."

I-Chaya offered no sage advice, and instead butt her head against Spock's hand when she felt like he was getting too lackluster with his petting of her. He scooped her up, and went to sit down at his desk chair so he could settle I-Chaya on his lap and continue petting her. He'd been feeling rather confused since his pet first went missing, and then when it had been James Kirk of all people to find her, he'd only grown more confused. Of course, as soon as he'd actually seen the boy, he couldn't help feeling concerned. And that concern wasn't gone even now. What was going to happen to James? Would his family just hurt him more? Would he ever admit to the fact that they did? Was there anything Spock could do about it?

That last question was the one that was sure to be on his mind for a while. He was never going to stop wondering if there was anything he could do to make things better for the vulnerable, highly intelligent, teenager. James was a good kid, and he didn't deserve all the pain and injuries that he seemed to be sporting almost all the time. But the only one who could ensure a change was James himself, if he was just willing to step forward. Maybe Spock could figure out why James denied everything. Maybe he was just scared of being hurt even worse. Or there could be something else going on. Either way, Spock was determined to find out. He couldn't condone any of his students being injured by the people who were supposed to care for them. And if no one else was going to step forward to help James Kirk, then Spock would just have to do it himself.


	10. Chapter 10

Jim dragged his feet through the front door of the house, feeling like a rather pathetic creature. He was only trying to make sure he was properly punished for all his wrong doings, but then he'd been the one who'd run away like some kind of coward. What was wrong with him? He let out an audible snort without meaning to. Asking what was wrong with himself was only begging to sit around for years to try and parse it all out. There was way too much wrong with him to ever be able to make a list or anything.

Jim sighed, and just hoped that Frank and his mom would both be busy elsewhere, preferably on the other side of the universe from him, though he'd take what he could get. He peered around cautiously as he walked through the living room, but didn't see any signs of life, so he decided that it was safe to keep moving towards the stairs.

When he finally got to his room, he sank down on his bed, and let out a small sigh of relief. No matter what else happened, he'd always be happy to have such a comfortable bed. Frank probably didn't even realize that Jim had swapped his bed with Sam's years ago, leaving him with something that was actually nice to lie on top of, even if his head was still spinning, and his ribs were aching from where he'd gotten clipped by a car when he staggered across the road yesterday.

Even though he was tired, Jim knew it would be a dick move to fall asleep without calling Bones first. He heaved out an exhausted sigh, and then got back up to his feet so he could trudge back out into the hallway to retrieve one of the landline phones. He really should've thought to grab one on in the way to his room, but it's not like Jim was ever very smart.

He winced as he reached out to grab the stupid phone, and suddenly someone was knocking his hand aside with a lot more force than necessary. Jim slowly tilted his head back to look up at his mom's face. Wasn't she supposed to be at work? Then again, Spock hadn't left his home yet despite the time, so it was probably just the weekend.

Winona looked at Jim with a scowl on her face and narrowed eyes. "Where the hell have you been? Do you really think you can just run off like that and worry everyone sick and not have to face any consequences?"  
Jim furrowed his eyebrows. "Uh, yeah? I didn't realize that my absence would worry you so much. Didn't think you'd care."

Winona clenched her jaw, and her fists, before gritting out, "I'm your mother, of course I care. Though you've been an awful son lately. You didn't even stop once to consider anyone else's feelings before doing something so stupid."

All Jim wanted to do was let Bones know he was okay, and then take a nap for like a year, but his mom was starting to grate on his nerves. He crossed his arms over his chest, and frowned at her. "I'm so sorry for not thinking about you before I decided to take some time away from the people who don't mind hurting me over whatever little thing bothered you that had nothing to do with me. I'm a bad son for not wanting to stay in this house where I'm destined to rot away into nothing?" He made sure not to raise his voice, because he knew shouting would only draw Frank's attention if he was somewhere in the house.

For some reason, Winona actually had the audacity to look offended by Jim's words. "Excuse me? How dare you say something like that when we both know that the only reason you came back is that you don't know jack squat about taking care of yourself in the real world, and it was scarier and more difficult than you thought it would be. We give you food, and clothes, and a roof over your head, and a television and books and a whole bunch of other crap that you've done absolutely nothing to deserve!"

"Yeah, thanks for providing me with the bare minimum required to live, it really makes me feel so wanted."

A moment later, there was the sound of skin hitting skin, and Jim could feel his cheek stinging where his mother had just slapped him. "You are the worst son ever. Why can't you be more like Sam? If your father was still alive, he'd feel nothing but shame to have you as a son."

Jim gulped, and took in a deep breath, willing himself not to cry. This wouldn't hurt so much if he wasn't so goddamn emotional all the time, and he wasn't going to let his mom see just how much she was getting to him. "If my dad was still alive, he'd feel ashamed to have you as a wife," he said quietly, hoping his words would sting his mom as much as hers had him.

Winona slapped him again, this time across his other cheek. "You are a disgrace to this family. If you hate it here so much, why don't you just leave for good? Maybe we'll all get lucky, and you'll get yourself killed out there." Then she abruptly turned on her heel, and marched down the hallway to her own bedroom.

Jim stood perfectly still where he was, waiting until she was in her room with the door closed behind her before he reached out to grab the phone, and then retreated into his room. He sank down onto his bed, though this time he couldn't be bothered to think of whether or not it was comfortable to lie in.

He dialed Bones' number, which he'd definitely know by heart by now even if it hadn't been for his better than average memory, and didn't have to wait long because his best friend answered on the first ring. "Jim? Where the hell have you been? You haven't been in school, and I've been calling for days but your parents keep saying that you're unavailable at the moment and I thought-"

"I'm fine," Jim managed to croak out, despite the fact that it felt like there was a giant lump in his throat. "Sorry if I worried you," he offered after a long moment passed of nothing but listening to the echo of his own labored breaths. He wasn't even sure how much of the trouble with his breathing came from his sore ribs, and how much came from thinking about what had just happened with his mom. Not that getting hit in the face should really do much to impede one's breathing.

There was another long stretch of silence, but before Jim could fill it in, he suddenly heard the worst noise in the history of all of humankind. He could hear Bones crying. He'd only ever heard that noise once before in his entire life, when Bones' mom passed away when they were children. It was absolutely horrible to hear, because it meant that Bones had really reached the end of his rope. He was always the strong one, covering up all of his emotions with a general grouchiness, keeping Jim in one piece (for the most part). He didn't even know what to say. What could he possibly say that would make anything okay when he could feel his heart breaking for one of the few people he genuinely cared about with everything he had? "I thought you were dead," Bones finally said in a voice barely loud enough to qualify as a whisper. "I went to your house, but your mom wouldn't let me in, and kept saying that you were busy or out, and I called the police, but I guess your mom was good enough at talking to them, and they couldn't find any evidence of- of foul play. But I…" he trailed off, but that was enough.

Despite Bones' status as Jim's best friend in the entire universe for all of eternity, he'd always assumed that it didn't really go both ways. Sure, Bones didn't really have many other close friends, but that seemed to be the way he preferred things to be, since he didn't like all the 'teenage nonsense' that their peers got up to sometimes.

Jim had known for a while, ever since Tarsus, that he was actually a very disposable person. He'd done more terrible things than he'd ever be able to redeem himself for, and honestly hadn't deserved to make it out of that place alive. And he'd known that even if he hadn't made it, no one would've really been all that upset. Sure, maybe Sam would've cried at first, but considering how easy it had been for his brother to abandon him, he was pretty sure that he'd get over Jim's death pretty quickly. And it wasn't like Winona or Frank made any secret of how much of a burden Jim was. And he'd figured that even Bones would get over it sooner or later, because it's not like Jim had ever done anything to set himself apart as being some kind of spectacular friend. It was usually Bones who ended up doing stuff like that, half of the time without even meaning to.

But now he wasn't so sure. The effect would probably be even worse in person, but Jim knew that at least just over the phone, Bones sounded totally devastated at the thought of Jim being dead. It was crazy, because he'd never thought anyone would be that upset about it. He was just Jim Kirk. No one special. "I'm sorry," he finally said, not sure of what else he could do. All he knew was that he wanted to make Bones stop crying, because he couldn't imagine ever hearing anything nearly as awful even if he lived for another thousand years.

His apology didn't seem to help, though. Bones just let out a violent sounding sob before shouting, "Don't you apologize, you idiot! Of course I'm pissed that you didn't come to me, or at least call me, sooner, but I'm infinitely more pissed at those two pieces of garbage who call themselves your parents. If I didn't think it would make things worse for you, I'd go over there right now and punch them both in the face." At least now he sounded more like he was aggressively growling than crying. Anything had to be better than listening to Bones cry.

Jim smiled to himself at the concern in his friends voice. "You're the best friend a guy could ever ask for," he said softly.

"Yeah, well," Bones said gruffly, apparently unable to think of anything more clever. "If you ever scare me like that again, don't expect me to stick around."

The strange thing was, though, that Jim just knew that what Bones really meant was that he was always going to be there for Jim. There was literally no one else in his life who would even care to make such a promise, let alone actually make it. Jim shifted around on his bed until he found the comfiest position, and then cleared his throat. "So you're never going to believe what happened," and then he launched into a long and very exaggerated tale of how he found Spock's cat, and then Spock took him back to his house.

By the time he was done, Bones was actually laughing. "I can't believe you got the chance to see the hobgoblin in his home territory and didn't even look for blackmail material! And how am I ever supposed to recover from the knowledge that a Vulcan has an adorable little kitten?"

"I know, right? Maybe that's what his mom meant when she said that Vulcans can actually feel things. Like the soft fur on a fluffy little kitty." He laughed, and Bones laughed with him, before smoothly segueing into letting Jim know what they'd been doing in school the past couple of days. Jim was happy to listen, because missing out on an education would be one of his greatest regrets for sure, so he had to learn as much as possible whenever he got the chance.

,,,

By the time Monday rolled around, Jim felt a lot better, at least physically. And talking to Bones all weekend had actually helped keep his mind off of everything else, which was nice. He hadn't risked leaving to visit Bones in person, though, and had instead spent the entire weekend holed up in his room, where he somehow felt safe most of the time. It meant that he felt like he was starving by the time he was getting ready for school, but it was worth it to avoid any further confrontations with Frank or Winona.

He practically skipped into his first class of the day, and ignored the various looks that he got from his classmates. He already knew that they ranged from pity to confusion to awe to jealousy (though he couldn't understand why anyone would possibly be jealous of him, all things considered). Jim sank down in his seat next to Bones, and gratefully accepted the notebook that was handed to him to copy all of Bones' notes out of.

Eventually, it was time to go to Spock's class, and Jim was pretty tempted to just skip it. He wasn't sure if the teacher would act weird or different because of what had happened, but he was cowardly enough to not want to find out. That entire incident with Spock had felt more like a fever dream than anything, and Jim was half-afraid that maybe it hadn't even happened, except for the fact that he had gone home clean and bandaged up.

Bones seemed to sense his hesitation, because he dragged Jim along with him to the classroom, and they hurried to their seats once they were inside. Spock was standing up, leaning over his desk as he read something lying flat on it. Jim couldn't see what the teacher was looking at from where he was.

At exactly twelve, Spock straightened up, and grabbed the attendance sheet to do a roll call. One kid was absent, and everyone else was in the room. When Spock had gotten to Jim's name, Jim ended up holding his breath, wondering what was going to happen. Instead of anything out of the ordinary, his name was said exactly the same as always, and Jim admitted that he was present when Bones leaned over to poke him in the arm.

Jim totally zoned out during the class, taking all of his notes on autopilot in a way that he knew most of his classmates would not be able to do. Even though he knew it annoyed Spock when students did so, Jim packed all of his things back into his bag a minute before the bell rang, but that was only so he could dash off the moment he heard that shrill noise.

He waited right outside the door for Bones, who took longer to escape. Bones kept giving him a funny look, but Jim ignored it, because he wasn't sure how to explain the fact that he suddenly wanted to be nowhere near Spock. They went to the cafeteria together, and sat down to share Bones' lunch, which was basically two lunches thanks to the wonderful David McCoy.

Jim suffered through his last class, which unfortunately was not with Bones, and then shuffled outside, making his way to the dinky back parking lot where Bones always kept his truck. He hoped inside, and waited patiently for a few minutes until Bones finally caught up and got into the driver's seat. Bones didn't even give Jim a second glance before taking off in the direction of his own home.

They retreated up to Bones' room before David or Eliza could pull them into a tedious conversation, and then flopped down on the bed so that they could stare blankly at the black television screen. "Do you wanna talk about it?" Bones finally managed to ask.

Jim quickly shook his head. "No. I don't think that I'll ever in a million years want to talk about this. But thanks for asking."

Bones shrugged. "Whatever." Then he got up to grab his backpack and pull out his homework. "I'm here if you end up changing your mind before that million years is up."

This exact moment had to be what made all of that pain worth it. If he gave up all his emotions, he wouldn't feel the swelling up in his heart at the thought of what an amazing friend Bones was, and he wouldn't be able to know just how much he loved his best friend in the entire universe.


	11. Chapter 11

Spock wasn't sure what he'd been expecting when he first showed up to school on Monday. Of course he wasn't afraid of what would happen, since he was Vulcan, and Vulcans felt no fear. But he had to admit that there was a certain… unpleasantness at the thought that James Kirk might not be there because he had been further injured. Or perhaps he would be there, and would tell everyone that he had been to a teacher's home, which would be considered quite inappropriate if any of the other faculty were to hear about it.

But nothing out of the ordinary happened when Spock stepped through the doors and into the school building. There was no angry principal waiting to drag him to the office and fire him, and there were no crying students mourning the loss of a classmate. Not that Spock had truly believed that James Kirk would be dead- someone like James Kirk who was so much larger than life had to be impossible to kill- but it was still a relief to find out that that was not the case.

And then there was no big fanfare as the class with James Kirk began. James and Leonard came in with several minutes to spare, but it was obvious that James was busy with something, so Spock didn't bother to say anything to the teenager. And then at the end of class, James was out of there the second the bell rang. He moved surprisingly quickly for someone who had been so badly injured. Perhaps it was for the best, though, because Spock wasn't entirely sure of what he would say even if he did manage to catch up with James.

He kept a careful eye on James over the next several days, and was pleased to note that the boy seemed to be healing and getting better, and as far as Spock could tell, no additional injuries had appeared. He knew that with a rough home life, this peace was bound to be broken eventually. But if James was going to continue to refuse to speak out against his parents, then the most Spock could hope for was that times like these would stretch on for a while.

On Friday, Spock found himself slightly relaxed compared to how he had been the rest of the week, because James seemed to be recovering well, and all of his classes had been successful, and he'd found very few students had failed the test he'd administered on Wednesday. Despite the eventfulness of the weekend, the week itself had been fairly quiet, and Spock was glad for that.

That relaxation quickly went away when Spock checked his work email and found tragic news in the form of a forwarded article. A student from a nearby school, just a junior, had been found dead in the woods near his home, having had his head bashed in by a rock. The boy's parents remained tight-lipped about the matter, but during an interview, his distraught girlfriend had let it slip that Thomas Leighton had been one of the survivors of Tarsus. Spock had been keeping up with the news lately, and he could do the math. That meant that there were only three survivors left.

The name sounded familiar, and when Spock did a quick online search, he found that Leighton had received several awards for his work on synthetic food, and had even been invited to speak and present his ideas at a prestigious science exhibition despite the fact that he was just a few weeks away from turning seventeen years old. Spock wondered why his colleague had sent him the article about Leighton's death, though, since the boy was not, and had never been, a student of this school. A little further research, and Spock found something very strange. In Leighton's scientific report, there were three authors listed. Leighton himself, a science teacher from his school that he had been working with, and James Tiberius Kirk.

James Kirk did not show up for school that day.

,,,

A new week would hopefully bring with it a fresh start for everyone. Spock felt strangely tired. Vulcans didn't get tired, though, so it was probably something else he was feeling. Vulcans also didn't get ill, which ruled that possibility out. It was probably nothing important, just a general exhaustion that came with spending all weekend trying to get I-Chaya to understand why she was not allowed to run outside of the apartment everytime he opened the front door. It was strange, because she was normally so well behaved, and Spock didn't understand why she felt the sudden urge to run outside. It was the same thing that had happened the day James had found the missing kitten. She was certainly an odd creature.

Spock felt like he was dragging his feet through the doors of the school, but he was determined not to let on how strange he felt, because he didn't need anyone questioning his dedication to the Vulcan way.

After slogging his way through his free period, the bell rang and his first class filed in. It didn't escape Spock's attention that James was in class today, though he seemed quiet and subdued, and Leonard kept giving him worried looks. Spock couldn't help feeling a little concerned. It was hard enough for anyone non-Vulcan to accept the death of people they knew, let alone children. And then James was a child from a broken home on top of that. It was amazing that he was even coping well enough with the loss to come to school after just a few days.

Though once he started thinking about James and Leighton, Spock couldn't help feeling curious about how they had met. They had never attended the same school at any point in their lives. But they were both brilliant, and James seemed like the type of person who would want to help others out. Obviously Leighton had begun his project after returning from the tragedy of Tarsus, and had probably met James through some means related to their similar intellect. He knew that there were many message boards for like-minded individuals, since Spock himself participated in a couple of them.

After class, James didn't rush out of the room. He moved slowly, though it was hard to say for sure whether it was due to physical injuries, or because he was still recovering from the fact that someone he knew and worked with was dead, and had gotten that way through such brutal means.

Deciding on a whim to take the opportunity, Spock walked over to where James was still putting his notebook into his bag. "James. Might I speak with you?"

Leonard was still standing there as well, waiting for his friend, and there was a protective stance to the way he subtly moved to stand between Spock and James. "He's been excused from missing some classes, remember?"

Spock nodded once. "Of course." Then he focused back on James, who was staring at him with dull eyes. "I did not wish to discuss your absence, but rather what the cause of it was. I understand that-"

"You don't understand anything," James interrupted, speaking in a monotone voice that didn't suit the teenager at all. "Nobody understands. I just- I just have to go, okay?"

As it often did in between classes, the school intercom system switched on for an announcement, giving Spock more time to think of a proper response to James' words. " _Don't forget to support the arts, people. The Karidian Company of Players is performing Macbeth in the auditorium at six o'clock tonight. There's still time to buy your tickets. Seven dollars for anyone who shows their school ID, ten dollars otherwise._ "

Spock could tell that Leonard was just as confused as him when James furrowed his eyebrows, and shook his head once. "You've got to be kidding me," he muttered to himself.

Leonard reached out to put a hand on one of James' shoulders. "Jim, buddy, I think that you should go home early, and get some rest. I know that you're stressed and upset, understandably so, and I don't think you should have to deal with school on top of everything else right now. Everyone will understand if you just need to take a break. Or you could go back to my place. I know that my dad is always happy to see you."

James shook his head stubbornly, and Spock couldn't help feeling grateful to see the usual fire return to James' eyes. "No way, Bones. This is too important."

"What is?"

James arched one eyebrow. "How big a fan are you of Shakespeare?" Leonard looked clearly confused by the question, and Spock couldn't help silently sharing the sentiment. James rolled his eyes before continuing to speak, sounding more and more like himself as he went on. "We need to go to that play tonight, Bones. You don't understand, but we have to go. I'll even pay for your ticket."

Leonard looked concerned, and neither of the boys seemed to remember that Spock was still standing right there. "Seriously, what's up with you? I get why you're upset about Tom, but I don't get why you suddenly want to go watch some crappy rendition of Macbeth. You know that they'll probably butcher the entire thing. That's what modern interpretationists always do."

James snorted. "I didn't realize that you were such a fine arts critic. In that case, it's even more imperative that I have you by my side."

Leonard narrowed his eyes. "I'll consider going to the stupid play with you if you tell me why the hell you feel such an urgent need to go."

James sighed, and then his eyes flicked over to Spock. He blinked a few times, looking vaguely surprised, and then he grabbed Leonard's arm to drag him out of the classroom. "We need to get to our next classes, but I'll tell you after school, okay?" and then they were both gone, and Spock was left to wonder what had just happened.

He knew that it would be wrong to stalk a student, and that's not what he really wanted to do, but he did want to make sure that James was okay, and he'd never heard a high schooler sound so passionate about attending a Shakespeare play. Spock had been planning on attending the play anyways, since his mother had always insisted on teaching him classic literature until he learned to love it, and would now simply take advantage of the fact that it would also give him a chance to try and keep an eye on James.

The rest of the school day passed by quickly enough, and Spock had gotten enough work done during his free period that he figured he could afford to head home and spend a little bit of time with I-Chaya before coming back for the play.

By the time he got back, around five forty-five, there was already a decently long line outside of the auditorium. Spock always liked to be prepared, and had purchased his ticket several days ago when it had first been announced that the play would be performed in the comfort of their own school. He went right up to the doors and handed over his ticket. In exchange, he was given a playbill, and he headed inside to sit down part way through a row in the middle of the audience.

Spock looked around, but didn't spot James or Leonard, and assumed that James' plans had sounded last minute, and that they would probably have to wait in line to buy a ticket before they could get in. It was possible that the tickets would run out before the boys could buy them, but hopefully that wouldn't be the case, since James had sounded pretty desperate to watch this play.

At exactly six o'clock, the lights in the large room dimmed, and the curtain on the stage rose up. Without any introduction or further ado, the players launched right into the first lines of the play. Spock personally agreed with Leonard's assessment that the play would be butchered by the modern interpretation. The three witches were goth girls with many piercings and strangely dyed hair, several characters rode skateboards across the stage, someone gave an entire soliloquy about the sandwich shop Subway, and the ghost was not a ghost, but the result of a drug trip. Overall, it was a very bizarre version of Macbeth, despite the decent quality of the acting, and Spock wondered if James had gotten what he wanted out of the production.

When the play was over, Spock decided to stick around and wait until everyone else had gone so that he wouldn't be fighting and pushing his way out of the auditorium. As he waited, he kept some of his attention on the stage, and he noticed James walking up onto the stage by himself, heading directly to the actress who played Lady Macbeth. The woman was clearly older than James, most likely somewhere in her early twenties, but she seemed flattered by whatever James had just said.

Spock frowned, and hoped that she wasn't going to try anything inappropriate. While he was normally content to allow students to express themselves and their feelings without getting involved, he would have to draw the line at a grown woman getting together with a minor. He started to walk towards the stage, but someone rushing to leave jostled past, and by the time Spock focused back on the stage, James was already gone while the actress remained on the stage. He felt himself relax at the thought that the two had not gone off together.

Eventually the way out of the auditorium was clear, and Spock left without trying to speak with any of the players. He decided to head directly home, since there were still many people crowding through the school hallways as they mingled and discussed what they had just watched.

Once he was safe and back in his apartment, he carefully explained to I-Chaya exactly why the play could not truly be considered a success. While the cat no doubt had little interest in the subject, she stayed and listened to everything Spock said, because she was a polite little thing like that.

It was too late to call his mother, but he made a point to do so tomorrow so that he could tell her the fate of one of her favorite Shakespeare plays. Then he poured out some food for I-Chaya, and got himself ready for bed. He was still curious to know why James had been so suddenly interested in attending the play, but decided that it was a mystery he could solve tomorrow, after he'd gotten some rest.


	12. Chapter 12

**SomeRandomHuman & Spock11- Thank you so much! I haven't been able to stop thinking about your reviews since you left them! I'm so happy that you're enjoying this story!**

 **A/N- Warning for explicit child abuse near the end of the chapter. Stop reading when Frank gets home if you don't want the gory stuff!**

Jim paced back and forth restlessly in the small space of his bedroom. He wasn't sure what to think of the stupid play. Of course Bones had been right about the entire thing being one large dumpster fire version of the classic play, but that's not what had Jim so concerned. He could still remember the brief conversation he'd had with Tom just last week.

Tom had called the house, despite knowing what a big risk that was since Jim wasn't always guaranteed to be the one to answer, and had gotten lucky. He'd sounded desperate, and said that Kodos was alive and well, and participating in an acting troupe that passed through his town and performed at his local community center.

Jim had scoffed, and told Tom that he was just being ridiculous. This wasn't the first, or second, or even tenth time that Tom had called in a panic to say that he'd spotted Kodos somewhere. Without any mode of transportation of his own, Jim had been stuck hopping buses and trains, and even hitch hiking, all the way to Tom, just to find out that there was no evil villain waiting for him there.

With everything so tense, considering the deaths of the other Tarsus survivors, and Jim trying to recover from his injuries, he'd called Tom a boy crying wolf, and told him that he'd been wrong a thousand times already, and was probably just wrong again. He'd been in a cranky mood, and hated that his entire friendship with the other boy seemed to consist of him providing comfort, and lending his brain on occasion to help work on Tom's project. Not that it wasn't a very valuable project, of course, but Jim couldn't help thinking that sometimes it would be nice to get a call just to chat and ask how he's doing.

Of course, as soon as he'd heard the news, it had felt like the entire world was falling apart. He'd refused to make the effort to go see Tom, and then Tom was dead, just like that. Brutally murdered in a way that no one deserved, especially not someone as good as Tom. Tom had always been the ultimate survivor, so for him to be dead now was absolutely terrifying. And, of course, there was the fact that Tom really was one of Jim's closest friends, and now he was gone. Just another name on the list of Tarsus survivors who had been killed. There was no way that it could just be a coincidence.

So when he'd heard that the same acting troupe Tom had suspected was going to be performing in his very own high school, Jim hadn't been able to pass up the opportunity to investigate and see what was up with them.

Jim knew that of the three survivors now left, he was the only one who'd ever seen Kodos' face up close for longer than a few seconds, which meant that he had the best chance of identifying the man. It also helped that he had a perfect memory. It was his obligation to at least try, in honor of Tom, and the other survivors, and the thousands who had never made it out of Tarsus.

Because of how long it took to stand in line to buy a ticket, all of the front row seats had been taken, which was frustrating, but not the end of the world. Jim had used that time to google the starring actor, Anton Karidian, by using Bones' phone. There didn't seem to be anything immediately noticeable about him, though there was only a small amount of information to be found about the man.

Once they'd actually sat down, Jim had stared intently at the actor playing Macbeth. He did admittedly look similar to Kodos, but it wasn't an exact match, and no matter how pissed off Jim was, he would never accuse someone of being such a despicable monster without some kind of evidence to back his claims.

Which was why he'd told Bones to go on and leave ahead of him so that he could go to talk to the actors after the play was over. Unfortunately, Karidian had practically fled the school, apparently not fond of interacting with his fans, even when they were sure to heap praise upon him. The direction of the play may have been unpleasant, but the acting itself had been impressive.

Instead of getting the chance to talk to Karidian, Jim's desperate eyes ended up landing the woman who'd played Lady Macbeth. Personally, Jim found it a bit odd to find out she was Karidian's daughter, since that meant that father and daughter had played a married couple, but he supposed that that was all thanks to the power of decent acting, so it wasn't a big concern at that moment.

Even though the woman, who introduced herself as Lenore Karidian, was clearly older than Jim, she had no problem accepting the flattery that he heaped upon her. It was gross, but no reason to suspect her father of being a mass murderer. He offered to 'show her around town', and then gave her a pretty unsubtle wink as he handed her a scrap of paper with his address scribbled out on it. She had smiled and blushed, but didn't really answer one way or the other about whether or not she wanted a personal tour from Jim.

He left the school, and managed to catch up with Bones in the parking lot so that he wouldn't be stuck walking home. He knew that his best friend had probably waited for him on purpose for exactly that reason. Jim scooted over so that he could press up against Bones and absorb some of the grouch's warmth, and even though Bones grumbled about it, he knew that his friend was secretly pleased by the contact.

Bones dropped Jim off at home, though not until after offering to host a sleepover at his place. In case Lenore ended up coming by, Jim had to turn down the offer, and then he headed into his own home. He didn't see any sign of his mom or Frank, but that wasn't necessarily proof that they would be out of the way for a while, so he'd retreated up to his room to think about the play.

He didn't actually have any proof that Karidian, or anyone else in the troupe, was responsible for killing the Tarsus survivors, let alone being responsible for an entire town being destroyed. But he couldn't deny the strangeness of Tom being suspicious of the troupe, who played in his town, and then Tom ending up dead. Thinking of Tom's death sent a pang of guilt and sadness through Jim's chest, but he knew that he couldn't dwell on that at the moment if he wanted to make it through the night.

After a little while, Jim smacked himself in the forehead for being an idiot. There was no way to directly prove the actor to be a killer, but there was a way to at least try and disprove that theory, which would be a step in the right direction. He went back downstairs and into his mom's office. For someone who was deeply immersed in technology by being a mechanical engineer for the navy, she wasn't very good at understanding safety with her everyday devices, and her computer password was just the date she'd first brought it home and set it up.

Once he was logged on, Jim opened up the internet browser, and looked up the Karidian Company of Players tour schedule. Then he opened another tab to look up the times and places where the other survivors had died. His eyes widened as he scanned over the various news articles, and quickly realized that the Players had been in all the towns the survivors had died in, and were there during the times the survivors died.

It was circumstantial at best, but it definitely didn't do anything but strengthen Tom's theory. Then he tried to do a more thorough search of Anton Karidian, and soon discovered that the reason he'd found so little information before was because there just wasn't much published on the internet about the man. He didn't have anything listed on his wikipedia page from before four years ago, not even a date of birth. It was like he had just appeared one day, adopted a daughter who had been sixteen at the time, and then jumped into the acting business. It was beyond bizarre, and definitely increased Jim's suspicion.

He was interrupted from his investigation by the sound of someone ringing the doorbell. The noise startled Jim, and he thought that it nearly gave him a heart attack. He took a moment to catch his breath, and then shut down the computer before getting up to answer the door. He blinked a few times in surprise when he saw Lenore standing there.

She offered a smile that seemed inappropriate considering that she was twenty years old and Jim was still seventeen. But he returned with a charming grin, not wanting to give away the game now. He wasn't sure what exactly was going on, or if Lenore knew anything, but he knew that he couldn't scare her away before he'd gotten the chance to pry some information out of her.

Jim led her into the kitchen, and was pleased that it was clean, and not about to embarrass him in front of the actress. "Care for a drink?"

Lenore arched one eyebrow. "Neither of us are old enough."

Jim shrugged as he reached up to grab a bottle of whiskey from the cabinet above the fridge. "It'll be our little secret." He grabbed two glasses out of a different cabinet, and set everything down on the counter. He wasn't stupid enough to get drunk, couldn't even imagine why anyone would want to after seeing what it did to Frank, but maybe if he got Lenore a bit tipsy, she would be more likely to spill something important.

He poured a bit of whiskey into both glasses, and then held one out to Lenore. He was pretty sure that there was some kind of social rule that looked down on men who intentionally got pretty girls drunk, but he didn't know what else he could do. Just before his hand could start shaking, which would immediately give away how nervous he was, Lenore accepted the glass, and tipped it back for a small sip. "I do love secrets."

Jim tilted his own glass back as well, but kept his upper lip pressed tightly against the inside of the glass so that none of the liquid could actually get into his mouth. Then he reached out with his free hand to take one of Lenore's hands, and was about to lead her towards the stairs, so he could bring her up to her room where no one would see her.

Of course that had to be the exact moment that Frank walked into the kitchen. The way that the man's mouth dropped open was almost comical. Clearly he had never expected Jim to so blatantly do something so stupid. Which was just further proof that he didn't know Jim at all. Frank blinked a few times, and then managed to summon up a nice smile. When he looked like that, it wasn't quite as difficult to figure out what Winona had seen in him. "I'm terribly sorry, miss, but I'm going to have to ask you to leave. I don't believe in allowing my step-son to drink underage, or to have girls over without permission."

Like the perfect actress that she was, Lenore's eyes widened, and she turned to stare at Jim in shock. "You're not even old enough to drink?" Then she looked at Frank. "I am so, so, sorry. He told me that he's twenty-one."

"It's quite alright, miss." Then he arched one eyebrow, and gave a pointed look towards the exit of the kitchen.

Lenore set the glass back down on the counter, her cheeks flushed pink with supposed embarrassment. She hurried away, and both Jim and Frank waited several long seconds for the sound of the front door slamming shut behind Lenore. As soon as that happened, Frank's face took on a more honest, furious, look. He stormed over to where Jim was standing, and slapped him across the face. "Who the hell do you think you are? What gives you the right to parade around this house, acting like you own the place? What other lies did you have to tell just to get a girl to actually pretend to like you?"

Jim clenched his jaw. "I'm sorry for bringing her here without asking-" Frank slapped him across the other cheek to cut him off, and Jim ended up biting into his tongue hard enough to make it bleed.

Then Frank snatched Jim's still full glass, and gulped down the contents, before turning to Jim again and spitting it out onto him. Jim squeezed his eyes shut too late, and he could feel the burn of alcohol in them, but he forced himself to remain still so that he would avoid doing anything that might provoke Frank.

Frank grabbed the whiskey bottle itself, and held it up right in front of Jim's face. "Open your eyes!" he snapped. Jim did, and could feel the tears building up from the sting of the alcohol that had dripped into his eyes. Frank waved the bottle back and forth aggressively enough to make some of the liquid splash out over the lip of the bottle. "You think that you deserve to have any of this? You fancy yourself an adult who can drink this shit?" When Jim said nothing, Frank scowled. "Answer me!"

He quickly shook his head. "No. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to-"

"Do you even realize how expensive this was? More than a waste of space little piece of shit like you could ever afford!" Before Jim could even try to plead his case further, Frank swung the bottle out and it would have smashed into the side of Jim's skull if he didn't duck aside quick enough. It wasn't enough to avoid the blow entirely, though, and it slammed into his shoulder with a very painful smack.

Jim reached up to clutch at his shoulder, hoping that it hadn't been dislocated, and then Frank splashed more whiskey onto Jim before slamming the bottle against the counter, smashing it into pieces and letting the rest of the alcohol drip down onto the floor. Frank was left holding a jagged piece of glass, and Jim staggered back, not wanting to be anywhere near here.

What would Spock the Vulcan do to avoid getting hurt here? No, that was a useless question. Someone as perfect as Spock would never do anything to wind up in this situation in the first place. This was all Jim's fault, for thinking that he could just play detective and avenge Tom without any help. For thinking he was smart enough to figure it all out.

Jim was abruptly yanked from his thoughts by the sharp feeling of something piercing him in the side of the stomach. It was the same side as the shoulder that had been smacked, which was why he hadn't been able to properly block the attack. He looked down at the bottle that was awkwardly sticking out of him, and then watched in horror as Frank tugged the bottle out, leaving the wound with nothing to stopper it. Blood spurted out, and Jim knew that this injury definitely ranked pretty high up there on the list of those that hurt the most.

The strange part was that Frank looked just as terrified as Jim. Maybe he couldn't handle the sight of blood when he was sober. Or maybe he'd expected Jim to be able to move aside before actually getting hurt. Either way, it was worse pain than Jim had been in in a while, since at least last time he'd been lucky enough to be pretty out of it with a fever.

Jim collapsed down to his knees on the floor, and leaned up against the fridge while he tried to think about what to do. He started to take his shirt off to press against the wound, but raising his injured arm caused a pain so intense that he blacked out for a second. He heaved in deep breath and resisted the urge to vomit while he instead tore off the bottom of his shirt. It was better than nothing, so he folded it up, and pressed it tightly against his side. He could feel himself breathing too quickly, and knew that he was probably having a panic attack, but he couldn't focus on his breathing when all he could think about was pain.

Frank threw aside the makeshift weapon. "This is your fault,' he spat out. "You made me do this! You-!"

"I need to go to the hospital," Jim coughed out, even as each breath shifted both his arm and stomach, which brought a new wave of stabbing pain.

Frank shook his head. "If I call an ambulance, they'll-" he looked around quickly. "I'll just-" he pulled off his jacket and wrapped it around his elbow, and then smashed in the little window in the kitchen door. Jim's pain-addled brain couldn't comprehend what Frank was doing, and honestly, he couldn't find it within himself to care. Then Frank pulled out his phone. "Hello? I need an ambulance. Someone broke into my house and attacked my step-son. He's bleeding badly, so please hurry."

"The glass," Jim coughed. It was strange, because he could feel the sweat dripping down him, but it felt like he was freezing. "Wrong side," he mumbled.

Frank ignored him, and paced back and forth across the kitchen. Jim closed his eyes, because it felt like too much effort to keep them open, and he could just hear the faint sound of distant sirens before the world faded away.


	13. Chapter 13

**A/N- Please be aware that this chapter involves graphic descriptions of Jim's time in Tarsus- including cannibalism and murder!**

Jim woke up to the sound of a faint beeping, and as soon as he pulled himself more fully into consciousness, he could feel a lot of pain. He groaned as he opened his eyes and looked around. He was clearly in a hospital room- he'd been in enough of those throughout his life to immediately recognize them. It was rare that he didn't remember being brought to the hospital, though.

Jim used his arm that didn't feel like it was about to fall off, and flipped aside the light blanket that had been tucked over him, and then pulled up the side of the cheap paper gown so that he could see the swath of bandages wrapped around him. At least Frank was changing things up. Variety was the spice of life, and all that.

He dropped the gown back down, and then squeezed his eyes shut for a moment. He was so stupid. Why had he thought that he'd actually be able to get any information out of Lenore? He was just an idiot kid who was in way over his head. At this rate, it wouldn't matter whether Kodos was alive, or if someone else was killing off the survivors. Jim wasn't sure he'd live long enough to be killed off.

And then he was pulled from his morbid thoughts by the feeling of someone gently grabbing his hand, and he tilted his head. Bones was sitting on the edge of the chair next to the bed, and had reached out to take Jim's hand. "Frank's in jail," was the first thing he grunted out.

Jim furrowed his eyebrows. "Why?" His mouth felt very dry, and his tongue felt like it had been inflated to twice its size, but he felt like that was an important question.

Bones scowled. "Why the hell do you think? Look at you, Jim! You could have died! Frank tried to tell the police that it was an intruder who broke in, but the window was broken from the inside, and his fingerprints were on the bottle. Even without you accusing him of anything, they've got enough evidence to hold him until a trial." There was a moment of silence, and then Bones let go of Jim's hand and jumped to his feet, looking more aggravated than usual. "Dammit, Jim! How the hell could you let things go this far? Why couldn't you have just talked to someone, anyone, and-"

Jim squeezed his eyes shut, and turned his head away from Bones. He could feel guilt that hurt almost as badly as the rest of his body. Though it was hard to figure out if his guilt towards worrying Bones was better or worse than his guilt towards everything that had happened in Tarsus.

Bones sighed loudly, and then sank back down into the chair. He spoke in a quiet, but still gruff, voice. "Jim, I don't think I've ever felt so terrified in my entire life than I did when I heard about what happened. So many people have known about what's been going on for years, but there's never been evidence, and you've always denied everything. And look where that got you, Jim. Almost dead. Is that what you want? To be dead before you can even graduate high school? Are you suicidal?"

Jim shook his head, though he still didn't open his eyes. "It's not like that," he muttered.

"Then what is it like? Please, explain it to me, Jim." Bones sounded desperate, and Jim's guilt only grew worse.

He gulped, and then shook his head, finally opening his eyes to look over at Bones pleadingly. "Don't ask me to explain anything to you. If you knew…" he trailed off, wincing at the way all of his talking seemed to make his side and shoulder ache even worse. "It's the one thing I swore that I would never tell you."

Bones furrowed his eyebrows. "I'm your best friend." He couldn't keep the tinge of hurt out of his voice. He opened his mouth again, but Jim cut him off before he could say anything else.

He took in a suddery breath, and then slowly let it out before speaking. "That's exactly why I can never tell you. You'd hate me, and the one thing I'd never be able to survive without is my friendship with you."

Bones narrowed his eyes. "What gives you the right to decide for me what I may or may not hate you for? I'm perfectly capable of making my own decisions, but not if I don't even know what's going on." When Jim didn't respond, Bones just leaned back in his seat and crossed his arms over his chest. "I'm not going to make you talk about anything that makes you so uncomfortable. But believe it or not, there are other people out there who want to help you. Please just talk to someone about all of this. Maybe I'll never understand why you so actively fought against being rescued from that monster, but clearly it was important to you. You should talk to someone, Jim. Maybe a professional. They can help you figure out all the things you're feeling, and help you cope with everything you've been through, and help make sure that you're put in the best home possible."

There was a long moment of silence before Jim could force himself to respond. "Don't I get a say in any of it? I'm going to be eighteen soon, and I'll be out on my own then anyways, so there doesn't seem to be much point in going through all the trouble of placing me anywhere. I'm fine where I am."

"You're not fine!" Bones barked at him, and the sudden loudness startled Jim enough to make him nearly jump. "The fact that you could even think that you're fine is definitive proof that you're not! You live somewhere so dangerous and toxic that you don't even think you're worth the 'trouble' of putting you somewhere safe! Dammit Jim! You-" his voice cracked, and then came out sounding unbearably vulnerable. "You matter, James Kirk. You're important, and worth all kinds of trouble, and if you had been killed by that bastard-" he didn't finish his sentence, just sat there with his shoulders trembling.

Jim stared at him with wide eyes. "Bones- Leonard- I just- I'm not-" He wasn't sure how to keep going without making Bones yell at him, and the last thing he wanted to do was make his best friend feel any pain after years of Bones making him so happy. He closed his eyes again, and pressed his lips into a flat line for a moment. "I'm not going to make you promise not to hate me or leave me. I know that that would unfair of me." He didn't want Bones to cry again. At least if Bones hated Jim, he wouldn't be sad anymore. But there was no way that he could look at Bones if he wanted to be able to get the story out. "I was in Tarsus." Like peeling off a bandaid, it was best to just get that part over with. He hurried on, even though he was pretty sure that Bones wasn't going to interrupt him at this point, if only because he was too shocked. "It's where my brother sent me to get me out of the way, and I thought that it would be pretty cool to live in a different place for a summer, and see what life is like with my aunt- she wasn't actually related to me, but her and my father grew up together and thought of each other as brother and sister.

"Anyways, things were pretty good there, at first. I had to get up early to help with the farm, and it got pretty damn hot there, but it was good. My aunt decided to enroll me in summer classes, because she said that if she didn't, my 'big brain' would rot away. In a small town like that- even smaller than Riverside if you can believe it- the only summer classes available were the math and English for those who had failed during the year, nothing that would be stimulating for me. And then the governor himself, Adrian Kodos, saw my transcript, and volunteered to tutor me himself. I was so excited by the opportunity, and I thought that it would be cool to learn more about economics.

"For a couple of weeks, everything went great. I was learning a lot, building up some muscle on the farm, and generally enjoying life. I should have known that things could never go that well for me. Did you know that out of the eight thousand Tarsus residents, almost a thousand of them were Vulcans? Not that it matters now, but I was interested to find an entire Vulcan community there.

"Anyways, once things got bad, they got bad fast. There was a big electrical storm, and it knocked out the telephone and cable wires in the entire town. But they still had more old-fashioned, small town mentality, and no one was really bothered by the lack of communication with anyone else, because they figured that it would be fixed eventually whether they fussed about it or not.

"That wasn't all the storm did, though. It also rained, a lot, for weeks on end. There were no paved roads, just dirt. The rain turned the roads into mud pits that would be impossible to drive through. People didn't travel in or out that often, though, so no one cared. Very few people in Tarsus even owned cars because the place was small enough that everyone could just walk to where they needed to go. It was a fairly self-sufficient kind of place, that only got deliveries from the city a couple times a year.

"About a week later is when the whispers started going around. This one family's farm lost all their crops. Out loud, everyone said that it was because they were incompetent farmers, but in secret, people were afraid of a bigger problem. Especially when both Mr and Mrs Arnsdale were brought to the doctor- there wasn't even a hospital in Tarsus- and they both passed away a few days later.

"It turned out that the Arnsdale crops had been infected with something that killed both the crops, and the people who ate them. Everyone became more vigilant, but the disease spread anyways. Suddenly, everyone was too afraid to eat anything fresh, and they wanted to burn the crops, but they were never dry enough to do that. The whole town started starving, and everyone was getting sick from all the water, which went up over your ankles no matter where you went in town.

"Kodos told everyone to stay calm, and that he'd call for help, but none of the communications had been fixed, and the never ending storm only made things so much worse. Some people tried to leave, but there were three car crashes within two days because there was just too much mud and water everywhere. And it would be a pretty long walk to the nearest city. People began hoarding the food they had left, canned goods and frozen stuff mostly.

"The power went out in the whole town after a little while, and things weren't looking good. Kodos called a town meeting, though specifically only asked for those under the age of twenty and those above the age of forty to show up." Jim gulped, and with his eyes closed, it was all too easy to see vivid memories of the events he was describing. But he took a deep breath and powered on, because he knew he wouldn't be able to talk about all of this again. "My aunt and I went to the meeting, but as Kodos was greeting people at the doors, he pulled me aside. He told me that it would be a shame to waste my potential, and that I should wait in the hallway. Once everyone else was in, Kodos and the police officers went inside as well.

"I listened through the doors, trying to figure out what the hell was going on. That's when I heard Kodos talk about the fact that the town was dying, and that he needed to give the productive members of society a chance to survive until help could arrive. He thanked them for their 'understanding' and 'sacrifice'.

"That's when- that's when the shooting started. I could hear so many shots being fired, and people screaming. They ran to the doors, but there was a lot of panic in there. I opened the door, grabbed the two closest kids, and then ran like hell to get out of there. The kids didn't know what the hell was happening, and they were screaming for their parents, but I refused to stop running.

"I went back to the farm, and found that someone had already broken in. It was- it was Tom. Tom Leighton. He had refused to go to the town meeting because he'd been feeling sick. He was less than a year younger than me, but it was obvious that he was looking to me for guidance. The other two kids eventually stopped crying, and I told them that we were going on a fun adventure." He snorted. "Turns out I was a total liar, but I didn't know what else to say to them.

"I didn't have any hope that my aunt had gotten out of that room alive. I wanted to believe that she had, but suddenly I had three kids to take care of, and I couldn't afford to make stupid decisions just because I got too caught up in my hope. So we gathered up all the food in the house, grabbed some dry clothes and blankets, filled some empty water bottles, and then took off before anyone could find us there.

"The biggest problem with finding shelter was that there were so few dry places to go. Inside the houses were all damp and chilly, but outside was soaked and there was nowhere on the ground to sleep without risking the kids rolling over and drowning. We couldn't even keep our stuff dry for very long, let alone ourselves.

"After that, it all became a game of survival. There was a very limited amount of food left in town, and Kodos had the guys with guns on his side. When no help arrived two weeks after the massacre, chaos broke out among the remaining Tarsus residents. People were stealing from each other, and fighting each other. Any food that was discovered was supposed to go to Kodos' stores so that he could 'fairly' divide and ration everything. I always volunteered to go scouting for the kids, because I knew that they shouldn't have to see the things that happened. I saw an officer shoot a pregnant woman to grab a single can of corn from her hands.

"I went days on end at a time without food because I wanted to make sure that the kids didn't get too hungry. We were all sick and miserable, but they were weaker than me. And more likely to whine loudly when they were hungry, which meant more likely to get us caught. When we were completely out of food, and couldn't find anywhere left to loot, I snuck into Kodos' stores in the middle of the night. I grabbed as much food as I could, even though that meant that someone else would have to starve.

"I got caught on my way out. One of the town officers. He was going to kill me, so I offered him- I offered-" his voice caught on the words, and he cleared his throat. "He let me keep a single can, but I had to put the rest back. Maybe if I was on my own, that would have lasted me longer, but it wouldn't even be an entire meal for four people.

"The youngest kid in the group, Amanda, got really sick. She was only five, and she had a burning fever that wouldn't go down, and she was so hungry, and I was so scared. I didn't know what I'd do if she died. It would mean that I hadn't been good enough to save her, and I- I went out that night. Broke into someone's house. Grabbed some ibuprofen, a blanket, a dry shirt. The owner of the house came home and ran at me. I had a little pocket knife, and I defended myself. Got lucky, if you want to call it that. Stabbed him in the neck. Maybe he still could have survived, but I pulled the knife out. He just fell. One second he was alive, and the next, he just wasn't. I had seen other people die, but never so close, and I'd never been the one who-

"I did a more thorough search of the house, but there was no food. I grabbed everything from the medicine cabinet, just in case, and then I- we needed food, or we would have died. So I-" The thought of his own evil actions made Jim want to dig his fingers into his stitched up side to fill him with the pain that he deserved. "I grabbed one of his big kitchen knives, and tried to… I… I chopped him up. I kept having to stop to go throw up in the corner, and there was blood everywhere, and I didn't even know what parts to- I didn't-" He gulped down the bile that rose up in his throat as he recalled that horrific night. "I didn't want to scare the kids. The guy had a gas stove that still worked, so I-" He could practically smell the burning flesh and the thick coppery tang in the air.

"I brought as much back to the kids as I could carry. I didn't tell them what they were eating, because if they refused to eat, they would starve. Or worse- they would choose to eat with the full knowledge of what it was, and I couldn't stand the thought of dragging them down to my level. I killed two more people, to keep my kids alive. I didn't plan to do it- but they attacked me first, and I had to defend myself if I wanted to protect my kids.

"By the time Kodos called for another town meeting, saying that he would provide food to everyone, there were only about two thousand people left. Everyone was desperate for food, which is why they went, even though the last town meeting hadn't ended well at all. It's just like they should have expected, and all of them were killed. At that point, they were too weak to even put up much of a fight.

"Three days later, some of the police officers turned on Kodos, and claimed that he wasn't fairly distributing the food. Some of them defended him while some attacked. Help arrived that day. Me and the kids and five of the officers were the only survivors. We all had to spend time in the hospital. We told the entire story, and then we were told not to go around sharing it with a lot of people. It turns out that the disease killing the crops had been discovered before the storm started, and Kodos had actually sent for help, but no one had arrived. I guess they didn't want the world to know that they'd let Tarsus happen." Jim could feel the wetness of tears sliding down his cheeks, and he finally cracked his eyes open just a sliver, but then immediately closed them again, too afraid to look. "Bones? Do you hate me now?" He couldn't imagine anyone not hating him. He'd been very careful to omit his worst crimes during the debriefing because he couldn't stand to see the disgust in those agents' eyes. Or worse, in his children's' eyes.

Bones didn't say anything, and Jim was afraid that the other boy had managed to make a run for it from the room in a quiet enough way that Jim hadn't been aware of it. Which is why he was completely taken by surprise by familiar arms being wrapped tightly around him. He finally opened his eyes all the way, and saw that there were tear tracks on Bones' face. "You idiot," he whispered. "Of course I don't hate you. I just hate that you've had to carry this burden around by yourself for so many years." Jim couldn't help thinking that there was no way that all of this was real. Bones seemed to be able to read his mind. "There you go underestimating me again. I'm not going anywhere."

Jim smiled, and even though Bones was hugging him carefully, it still hurt, but he didn't care. He raised his arms up to return the hug, ignoring the jolt of pain that came with the movement. "So now you understand. Why I never wanted to leave home."  
Bones finally pulled away, and looked at Jim in confusion. "No…" There was a thoughtful look on his face. "Did you think that- that you needed some kind of punishment for what happened in Tarsus?" Jim shrugged, and Bones had that look on his face that he got when he wanted to slap some sense into someone. "Jim, you didn't do anything wrong. You were thrown into a situation that no human being should have to deal with, let alone a child, and you did what you had to in order to survive, and to keep those other kids alive. No one could blame you for that. You didn't deserve years of this," he gestured to Jim's entire body. "Please, Jim, you can't let Frank get away with everything that he's done."

Jim shrugged again. "I'll think about it," he allowed. "But right now, can we just talk about something else?"

There was an unreadable expression on Bones' face, but then he nodded. "Yeah. I'm sure you're anxious to hear about what's been going on at school…"


	14. Chapter 14

It was all over the news. The story of a local man who had abused his stepson for years, and had stabbed him and put him in the hospital nearly dead. The stepfather and the boy's wife had both been arrested after the boy made a statement to the police about the ongoing abuse from both of them.

Spock wasn't sure how he felt as the reporter on the TV talked in the background while he made tea to go with his breakfast. He was Vulcan, which meant that he shouldn't actually be feeling anything. But despite that, there was a strange feeling in his stomach. As a Vulcan, he also shouldn't be able to get sick, so there was no satisfactory explanation for the feeling.

He had known that James Kirk had been living in a troubled home. Many of the other adults at the school had confessed to knowing it as well, and there was the fact that Spock had found James half-dead the day he'd returned I-Chaya. But James had insisted that that wasn't the case, and even though no one had believed him, no one had done anything to save him, either.

Maybe this was guilt. Did that count as a feeling? Spock certainly hoped that it didn't. He didn't want to have feelings. He didn't want to be vulnerable to pain, of the physical and emotional types. He didn't want to be like James, who clearly felt far more than was good for him. If Jim was a Vulcan, his family would have never been able to hurt him.

Spock paused with the sugar spoon hovering in the air above his teacup. No, that was wrong. That was victim blaming. The only one at fault here was James' stepfather and mother for being cruel enough to hurt a child. But perhaps there had been something more Spock could have done to prevent things from going so far.

He finished pouring the sugar into his tea and stirred it in carefully, then walked back to the living room, to look at the TV. In a town as small as Riverside, this was probably going to be the biggest news for at least a couple of weeks. And then whenever the trial happened, it was all going to blow up again.

It didn't take very long for Spock to finish getting ready for school, and then he turned off the TV and gave I-Chaya a couple of gentle patts on the head before leaving and locking the door behind him. He still wasn't entirely sure what had gotten into I-Chaya to make her run away last time, but he didn't want to give her the ability to try it again.

When he got to the school, all of the faculty were talking about James, talking in whispers as though that were a habit they'd become unable to break free from after so many years of talking about him in quiet voices. The head of the math department, Melissa Carol, saw Spock walking towards his room and called out to him. "Oh! Spock!" He walked over to her and their colleagues to be polite. "Have you heard the news? Isn't Kirk in one of your classes?"

Spock nodded once. "He is. I am aware that there were signs of his home conditions, but-"

Melissa interrupted him with a scoff and a wave of her hand. "Oh, that isn't anybody's fault, Spock. Jim's a good kid, and of course everyone loves him, but nobody was going to be able to do anything to help him until he was ready to help himself. It's tragic that it took so much violence to get him to the point where he was willing to actually throw accusations, but we're all just glad that he has come to his senses. And we all hope to see him back in school soon. He's far too bright to not finish up with his schooling."

Spock blinked. "Of course." Then he left the small group of gossiping teachers, and continued on his way to his classroom. He wasn't sure what it was about the chatter that bothered him, but he knew that it did bother him, and that was enough to be an annoyance. He probably wouldn't be able to stop thinking about it all day.

Well, that wasn't entirely true. Obviously he wouldn't be thinking about gossipy teachers while he was in the middle of teaching his own lessons, or when he was grading papers, or when he was talking with his mother later on in the day. And he knew that he definitely needed to talk to her, because she had the uncanny ability to somehow always make things seem better, and this was definitely a situation that could be made much better.

He was quick to notice that Leonard McCoy was also not in class. Considering their close friendship, he felt it was safe to assume that he was visiting James in the hospital. The rest of the class was physically in attendance, but it seemed pretty clear that very few of them were actually paying any attention to his lesson. They were too busy talking about James. It really was most likely the biggest news that would be around for a while, made even more exciting for these kids because they knew the person at the center of all the news stories. But it wasn't just about the excitement of it all. Spock could see that many of the students appeared to be genuinely upset about what had happened to James.

Though it wasn't normally something Spock would do, halfway through the class he declared that they were all being given independent study time. While ideally, students would use that time to catch up on work and whatnot, he knew that realistically, most of them would just use the opportunity to socialize. Perhaps at the moment that was exactly what they needed. Mental health was just as important as physical health, and Spock did want to see his students be successful.

He conducted the rest of his classes the same way. Taught them the minimum of what had been on his lesson plan, collected homework, and then gave independent study time. With each class, at the start of the independent study they all whispered among themselves and constantly looked over at Spock. But then they realized that he wasn't going to berate them, and they soon devolved into a rowdy classroom. Nothing got out of hand, though. It was just students talking to one another, and occasionally getting up to move closer to someone they wanted to talk to. Nothing for Spock to worry about. And he was able to use the time to get an early start on grading a stack of homework that he had planned to do at home tonight.

Because James seemed to be the only thing on everyone's mind at the moment, Spock couldn't help thinking of the boy as well. James really was a brilliant kid, and did not deserve the way he had been treated for presumably his entire life. Even though he wasn't sure if it would be considered appropriate or not, Spock decided that he would visit James in the hospital and bring the latest batch of missed work, since Leonard hadn't been in class to pick up an extra copy of it.

As he walked towards his car, Spock decided that it would be a good time to call his mother briefly. "Spock?"

"Mother. I am calling now because I will be busy grading papers later, as my usual grading time is being temporarily replaced by a hospital visit."

Amanda sucked in a sharp gasp. "Are you okay? What happened?"

He should have known that his wording would only cause worry. But it was always so difficult to figure out what things would or would not cause a non-Vulcan to feel concerned. "I am uninjured, Mother, as it would be quite impossible for me to exist in any other state. However, a student of mine, James Kirk, is currently a patient. He was stabbed by his stepfather."

Of course that didn't seem to make Amanda any less worried. "So then it's true what you suspected about the abuse? Is he okay?"

Spock shrugged as he buckled his seat belt. "I am unsure of his condition as I have not yet arrived at the hospital."

There was a short moment of silence where Spock was about to hang up, but then Amanda hurried to speak. "Well, the only right thing to do here would be to bring flowers. Trust me, it's a common courtesy to bring flowers when you're visiting someone in a hospital. I think they're supposed to make the rooms feel a bit more cheerful."

Spock nodded once. "Very well. Thank you, Mother. I will talk to you tomorrow." Then he hung up, put his phone into his pocket, and started the car. He went to the grocery store, since he wasn't really sure where else to buy flowers from, and asked an employee about which flowers would be best to bring to a hospital patient. The teenager didn't seem very sure, but they eventually recommended a small bouquet with an eclectic assortment.

The flowers were more expensive than he had anticipated, but Spock didn't want to appear rude or uncultured by showing up without them. He was grateful to his mother for telling him what to do, because otherwise he would have looked foolish to show up empty-handed.

It didn't take too long to get to the hospital from the grocery store, and it only took a single inquiry at the front desk to find James' room. He paused in the doorway, and then knocked on the door. It swung open a few seconds later, revealing a suspicious looking Leonard. He narrowed his eyes, and crossed his arms over his chest. "What are you doing here?"

Spock held out the flowers first, and then held out the folder of homework he'd brought with him. "I thought that James might appreciate having something to do in order to occupy his time while he is recovering."

Leonard looked surprised. "That's actually a pretty good idea." He stepped aside so that Spock could walked into the room. "What's with the flowers though?"

"I was informed that it is customary to bring flowers when one is visiting a hospital-bound person."

Leonard shrugged. "I guess so." He walked over to the small closer on one side of the room and rummaged around until he emerged with a vase. "I think that they leave these in all the rooms just in case." He ducked into the attached bathroom to partially fill the vase, and then put it down on the bedside table next to James. Spock removed the crinkly wrappings from the flowers, and put them into the water.

James appeared to be sleeping at the moment, and Spock didn't want to disturb the boy while he was trying to recover from such a traumatic injury. "I will leave now."

As he started towards the door, he heard a weak cough, and then his name. "Spock?" He turned around to see James blinking rapidly, looking slightly dazed. "What are you doing here? Am I just fated to see you whenever I'm at my most injured?"

Spock could feel Leonard's eyes burning through him, but he kept his attention on James for the moment. "I would need a complete list of your injuries to ascertain whether or not I have truly seen you when it has been at the worst."

James snorted. "You know what I meant. But you didn't answer my question. What are you doing here?" His voice sounded somehow simultaneously weak and strong, and Spock was unsure of how such a contradiction was possible. He didn't think it was a non-Vulcan thing; he was pretty sure that it was simply just a James Kirk thing.

Spock took a couple of steps closer to that bed so that he would not have to raise his voice to be heard across the room. "I came to bring you the work you missed lately. And…" he hesitated for a moment before continuing, not entirely sure of the proper procedure in this situation. He thought of what his mother might say if she were by his side at the moment. "I came to offer my apologies for the pain you have suffered, though, of course, I had no part in causing any of your injuries."

James nodded. "Thanks. You know, you're pretty cool for a-" _Vulcan_ , Spock thought to himself. "teacher," James finished easily. "You've done a lot more for me lately than most other people have done in my entire life."

"I'm standing right here, dumbass," Leonard grumbled. But from what Spock could tell, Leonard was not actually upset at the moment.

James laughed at his best friend's reaction, but kept looking up at Spock with tired, yet vibrant, eyes. "Thank you for caring when you don't have any obligation to do so."

Spock didn't care about James, not really. He wasn't capable of such a thing. "You are a bright and talented young man. You have the potential to improve the world, but you cannot do that if you are hurt or dead. I am only doing what is logical here."

The bedridden teen shrugged, then winced as the motion must have pulled on his stitches. "Maybe so. Perhaps that means that I should just thank you for being logical, then. But then I'm afraid that I wouldn't be able to fully convey my gratitude. And besides, we both know that the idea that Vulcans are entirely incapable of caring is total bs. So I am grateful to you because you helped me when you had no reason to. Just accept it, Spock."

Spock shifted slightly on his feet. "I have accomplished what I came here for, and am now going to leave." Then he turned and walked out of the room slowly, unsure of why it seemed like he could feel James' eyes on him the entire way back to his apartment.

As he walked in through the front door, he realized that he could hear the sound of the TV on, and he went to investigate. He hadn't noticed any signs of an intruder, but they could have come in through some other way. He couldn't help staring in surprise as he peered into the living room. I-Chaya was curled up on the couch, lazily resting one paw over the channel button on the television remote, staring at the screen as the news played.

He shook his head as he retreated to his desk to pull out the stack of papers he still needed to grade. One of them got stuck in the bag, so he reached into to pull it out, and a moment later, he felt a sharpness like nothing he'd ever felt before. Spock quickly pulled his hand free, and saw a thin line across the top of his finger, and a small bead of blood dripped down. Spock sank down into his chair, staring at his finger like it belonged to an alien.

Spock wanted to adamantly deny that it was possible for this to even happen to him, but he had no reason to doubt his own eyesight. And he couldn't ignore the way his finger felt. Though he couldn't recall ever feeling such a thing before, he knew instinctively that it had to be pain, and it was certainly not comfortable at all. But he couldn't even summon up the energy to get up and fetch his first aid aid kit to get a bandage. He was too busy looking at his finger in shock, trying to figure out what any of this could possibly mean.


	15. Chapter 15

The doctor shrugged, and then looked back down at his clipboard, trying to hide the slightly uncomfortable look on his face. "I'm sorry, but I cannot discharge you without a legal guardian present, since you're still a minor."

Jim narrowed his eyes. "Both of 'em are in jail. What am I supposed to do about that?"

There was a sympathetic look on the doctor's face, but sympathy wasn't going to be enough to get him out of here and back home. Or, well, maybe not home. That place was full of nothing but bad memories. But Bones had offered up his own bed, claiming that he'd be perfectly fine sleeping on the couch for however long it took Jim to finish healing up completely. "I'm sorry, Mr. Kirk. I understand that you want to be discharged as soon as possible, but we are currently waiting on child services to send someone here to talk to you."

Jim frowned. "But they already did that, when I made my official report to the police."

The doctor nodded. "Yes, but that was just for the purpose of the report. With neither of your parents available to care for you, other arrangements must be made. Most likely foster care, from what I've heard."

It took a moment for that to sink in, and then Jim quickly shook his head. "No way! I can't go into foster care!" He'd seen enough movies and TV shows to know what happened to kids that were put into the system. "I'm going to be eighteen in like two months, so what's the point of, of filling out all that paperwork for just such a short amount of time?" He could feel himself getting worked up, breathing too quickly, talking with all of his words strung together as one, and he hated the look that the doctor gave him then.

Jim did not need any pity, but apparently the doctor also came to the conclusion that Jim didn't need any new sources of stress. "I'm sorry to have brought it up," he apologized quietly. "I think it would be best for you to wait and talk to a social worker. They'll be better at this than me." He stood there awkwardly for a moment, clutching his clipboard in front of him almost like it was a shield to protect him from Jim's madness and misfortune. "I am sorry that you have to deal with all of this." Then he turned on one heel and hurried out of the small hospital room.

Once he was alone, Jim eased up on the scowling because it was starting to make his face sore, and then he leaned back against his pillows with a huff of irritation. He was being treated like a child even though he'd seen more suffering and horror already than most people would by the time they were old and wrinkly. Not that everyone here knew about Tarsus, of course. Bones was the only person he'd ever confided in, and he still wasn't entirely sure that that was the right choice. He couldn't stop himself from worrying that maybe Bones just hadn't had enough time to process it all yet, but that once he did, he'd be running for the hills. And Jim wouldn't even be able to blame him if that did happen.

After lying around for a while in a half awake, half asleep state, the kind brought on by excessive boredom more than anything, there was a polite knock at the open door. Jim blinked a few times in surprise, and then turned to see who was there. "Spock?" He could barely remember it thanks to the drugged up haze he'd been in last time, but Bones had confirmed that Spock had visited him and brought flowers.

Spock looked stiff and uncomfortable, and it took Jim a very long moment to realize why that was so strange. Sure, he'd already figured out the big secret- Vulcans have emotions too- but he thought that it had to be pretty rare for them to actually telegraph said emotions, especially to do so to the point that even a non-Vulcan would be able to pick up on it. He nodded for Spock to enter the room, curious about why the teacher had come to visit him for a second time.

They were both silent for a minute, and Jim arched one eyebrow, wondering if it was actually possible for a Vulcan to not only feel embarrassment, but to display it. Because that was the vibe he was getting from Spock at the moment. He waited for Spock to say something, but the silence stretched on. Jim's eyes flicked over the teacher, and then paused when he spotted a tiny band-aid wrapped around one of his long fingers. "What happened to you?" he blurted out before he could think about the million and one reasons why that wasn't the best conversation starter.

The question seemed to startle Spock more than anything, and then he slowly picked up his hand to peer at the band-aid, as though he was just as surprised to see it there as Jim was. Then he dropped his hand back to his side, paused a moment, and then moved both of his hands behind his back, where they would be out of sight. "I was unsure of whether or not your recovery had been set back by anything. In my research, your injuries should at least be well enough to be back in school."

Of course it didn't escape Jim's attention that Spock very blatantly hadn't answered his question, but he knew better than to push the matter. There could be a million reasons for a guy to be wearing a band-aid, even if it did seem to be a bit of a strange accessory for a Vulcan of all people, since they weren't supposed to be able to get hurt.

He didn't plan on pouring his heart out to Spock, but before he could think about it too hard, his mouth was opening and the words were coming out. And there was the fact that the thought of someone other than Bones actually being worried about him gave him a weird warm feeling inside. "I'm a minor so I can't get discharged by myself, but of course, Mom and Frank are in jail for now, so they can't exactly swing by to pick me up. And god knows where my brother is by now. He bounced a couple of years ago, and put a lot of effort into making sure that we wouldn't be able to find him again, and even if we could, I doubt he'd come back for me. This is such bull though. I'm almost eighteen, and I feel plenty capable of taking care of myself."

Jim wasn't sure what he expected Spock to say in response to that, but he couldn't help feeling slightly surprised when Spock took a small step closer to the bed. "That does seem unfair," he agreed. "Associating adulthood with a specific age when there are certain people who are forced to mature much faster due to the experiences that they are forced to live through."

"You don't even know the half of it," Jim muttered under his breath. He definitely wasn't going to clarify what that statement was about, though, because he didn't want his whole life story being passed around through the ears of a million different people. He cleared his throat. "Yeah. I'm just frustrated. Apparently I'm going to have to be put in a foster home for all of a couple of months, as if there's any point to that."

Spock arched one eyebrow. "Perhaps you are unaware of this because of your unfortunate circumstances, but families are not meant to only last until you turn eighteen. They are meant to be a support structure and safe place long into adulthood." It was almost unnoticeable, but his cheeks turned just the slightest pink as he continued. "I myself speak with my mother nearly every day, and am often being gifted with her guidance."

Jim shrugged, ignoring the pains that cascaded through his body from the movement. He couldn't imagine wanting to stay in touch with his parents, even if he did know that that's what families were supposed to be. But there was a big difference between their situations. "I think it's great that you and your mother get along so well, Spock. But I find it hard to believe that I could get that kind of bond in the three months before whoever's stuck with me is legally allowed to kick me out." He sighed, and shook his head. "But none of this is your problem anyways, so you really don't have to listen to me ramble on like this." He blinked a few times while he waited for Spock to turn around and leave, but the man remained where he was, though he didn't say anything in response. Jim furrowed his eyebrows. "Was there a reason you came here? Besides wondering when I'd be back in school, I mean?"

Spock pressed his lips together into a flat line, though Jim wasn't quite sure of what emotion that was supposed to convey. Then he looked down, putting his hands out in front of him again, staring for a moment at the band-aid that seemed to stand out in contrast to the rest of his hand. Finally he looked back at Jim, though he blatantly avoided meeting his eyes. "If you simply are in need of an adult to ensure you are discharged from the hospital, then I can offer my services."

It took a moment for Jim to convince himself that he'd actually heard that, and then he couldn't stop himself from smiling. The warm feeling in him seemed to spread around further. Spock actually cared enough about his education to sign him out of this place so that he could go back to school. He knew that there weren't very many people who would make that offer to any random student, let alone someone like Jim. "Thank you, Spock, but I don't think that would be appropriate. You're my teacher, remember? Besides, I'm sure the social worker won't want me to miss much more school, so hopefully everything should be processed quickly, and then three months from now I'll be able to leave."

Spock nodded. "Of course. I didn't mean to- I only meant-" he shook his head once, as if to shake aside some unpleasant thought. "I am pleased to see that you are not unwell." He hesitated before adding. "More unwell than before." Then he turned and left without another word.

Jim wasn't quite sure what to think of the entire incident, though he knew that it definitely felt at least a little bit strange. None of his other teachers had come to visit him in the hospital, let alone twice. Maybe there was some kind of information about this kind of situation that he was missing. He'd have to ask Bones next time he came to visit.

Jim ended up dozing off again for a little while, and was then woken up by the sound of someone clearing their throat. He opened his eyes to see the same doctor from before, along with a lady he didn't recognize. She was wearing a suit and tie, and carrying a briefcase. She walked over to Jim and offered him a gentle smile. "Good afternoon, Mr. Kirk. My name is Lisa Sheldon. You can call me Lisa. Do you mind if I take a seat?" Jim wordlessly shook his head, and watched as Lisa slowly walked across the room and then sat down in the visitor's chair next to the bed. "I understand that you spoke with one of my colleagues two weeks ago, right? I'm here today so that we can discuss your future."

There was a pleasant look on her face, but Jim could feel his stomach sinking. He kept his voice calm, even though he was pretty sure that that still wouldn't be enough to get her to treat him as an adult. "I know that you probably hear this a lot, but the truth is that I really don't feel as though I need to be put with a foster family, or anything like that. I'm going to be eighteen very soon, and I can get a job, and I can take care of myself."

Lisa didn't stop smiling as she set her briefcase down on her lap so that she could snap it open. "Jim, I'm here to make sure that you are put in whatever situation will be most beneficial to your success. Have you ever heard of emancipation? It would make you independent from your parents, or any other potential adult. If that's what you really want, then I can help you with that. We can set you up with an apartment of your own. I can assure you, Mr. Kirk, that I only want what is best for you. And you are right, you are very close to being eighteen, and I do believe you are capable of making your own decisions in regards to your future. Just tell me what you want to happen, and I will do what I can to see that your needs are met."

That definitely wasn't an outcome that Jim had foreseen, but he certainly appreciated it. Being independent wouldn't be much different than how his life had been before, except that it would hopefully include less pain. "I do want to live on my own."

Lisa nodded. "Then you and I will work together to make that happen, alright? Of course, there will be some conditions. Due to the circumstances that put you in the hospital, I am going to recommend you for mandated therapy." She kept talking after that, but Jim found himself having a difficult time paying attention. Had it really been so easy all that time? Well, no, not really. He couldn't have left sooner. He'd needed to be punished for Tarsus. But then Jim forced himself to pay more attention to Lisa, because for once there was an adult actually listening to him and trying to help him get what he wanted without treating him like a little kid.

Later, though, once the social worker was gone and the lights in the hallways had all been dimmed, Jim's mind wandered back to Tarsus. Not to the nightmares that fired through his brain all the time, but to the fact that the very small amount of survivors was still shrinking. If there was someone out there knocking off survivors, and if Jim actually wanted to survive, then he was going to have to watch his back.


	16. Chapter 16

Spock was uncomfortable with the unfamiliar feeling of horror and disgust that filled him as he watched the news, and saw that one of the last three Tarsus survivors had been killed. The boy had been so young, only eight years old. Which meant that she had only been five when the horrors of Tarsus had taken place. It was terrible enough to hear the stories of what had happened in Tarsus from the first hand accounts of the five police officers who had survived to tell the tale. They were grown adults, with police training on top of that. But there had been four children survivors, and apparently one of them had only been five years old at the time. How had she even lasted?

He found himself staring at the television screen as the story continued. Apparently it was something that deserved more airtime than Thomas Leighton had, even though both of them had just been children with no choice in the matter. The girl, Amanda Rendez, lived in Carrsdale, which was only about half an hour away from Riverside. She had been killed right in front of her adoptive parents when a car with no license plate drove up onto the sideway, ran her over, and kept on going. Those who had previously doubted the idea of there being a killer of Tarsus victims were mostly swayed into believing it.

Whoever was behind these murders wasn't even trying to be subtle anymore, despite the first few deaths being framed as suicides and accidents. It seemed sloppy, like maybe they were in some kind of hurry. Spock couldn't even imagine what those poor parents were going through. They'd taken in a child who had survived past something so horrible, only to be killed right in front of them after just three years.

There were also a lot of people bringing up the fact that of the nine Tarsus survivors, four had been children at the time, and apparently at least two of those children had lived fairly close to one another, despite how far they were from Tarsus itself. There was a lot of speculation about whether that had been intentional or not. Thomas Leighton's parents had died in Tarsus, and he had been sent to live with relatives. Amanda Redez' parents had also died in Tarsus, and she had been sent to live with a foster family. Yet they'd somehow ended up living only about an hour apart from each other.

Normally, Spock would spend a Saturday working on grading papers or creating new assignments, but he was far enough ahead that he didn't actually have any school related things to work on at the moment. Sunday was supposed to be his only leisure day, and even that consisted mainly of going to the gym and then coming home. Since Vulcans couldn't get injured, it was easier for them to work out for extended periods of time than it was for non-Vulcans. Though based on the papercut he was still sporting, Spock wasn't so sure if that would still hold true for him.

The point was that he didn't know what to do with his time on Saturday. He was almost desperate enough to go online and search up what most people liked to do with their spare time, but then ended up simply grabbing a book from his shelf that his mother had recommended several months ago. He'd been meaning to read it, but just hadn't gotten around to doing so yet.

He wasn't entirely sure why, but Spock left the television on softly in the background as he read. It was a waste of electricity, and he generally scoffed at the idea of people trying to watch TV while reading at the same time, but he had some morbid fascination for what was going on. There were only two Tarsus survivors left by anyone's account, and Spock wondered when they would die, considering how much closer together the deaths seemed to be getting.

A few hours later, there was an announcement of a special interview, but what really drew in Spock's attention was that he recognized landmarks in the background. The interview was taking place in Riverside, even though that wasn't where Amanda or Thomas had died. Though it was somewhere between the two other towns, so maybe that was reason enough to investigate there?

A young red-headed boy was on screen next to the reporter, and there were two worried looking, older, red-heads standing off to the side, staring intently at the boy, most likely his relatives. The boy was too young to be in the Riverside High School, looking to be around eleven or twelve years old. Spock marked his place in hs book and then grabbed the remote to turn up the volume on the television.

" _-must be pretty scary." The reporter said in a gentle voice. "It's very brave of you to stand in front of the world like this, Kevin. Would you like to share your reasons for it?"_

 _The boy- Kevin- nodded shyly. "My grandparents were against it, but then they said it's my choice. Way I see it, whoever's out there knows who made it out of Tarsus, but basically no one else knows. And it would be hard for anyone to protect me if they don't even know that I'm on the target list. I-" he hesitated for a moment, and looked down at the ground, clasping his hands together in a nervous gesture. "Tom and Amanda were part of our crew. Maybe Amanda was too much of a baby, and was always getting sick and stuff, but she was still one of us. And Tom was real nice. Everyone who met him liked him, even the grown-ups. It makes me pretty mad that we got through all of Tarsus together just for someone to hurt 'em when their guards were down." He looked back up, this time directly at the camera, determination written all over his face. "I gotta make it through this for their sakes."_

 _The reporter offered a small, sad little smile. "You really are an incredible kid, Kevin." The slightly patronizing tone that most adults used on children was gone, replaced by a more respectful one. "So I'm sure you're aware that everyone knows the story of Tarsus in terms of the politics, and what was going on with the government end of things. But no one's ever gotten a story from the perspective of you kids. We didn't even know that some of you knew each other. Would you be willing to talk about anything else happened?"_

 _Kevin glanced over at his grandparents for a moment before turning back to the reporter, who he gave a small shrug. "Me and Tom and Amanda all grew up in Tarsus. It was a pretty small town, and even though none of us were the same age, me and Tom kinda already knew each other because it pays to know the other kids who are around."_

" _Tom was the oldest of your 'crew', right? So was he the one in charge?"_

 _Kevin shook his head. "Nah. He was too nice. Probably wouldn't have actually been able to help the way that J- the way that our leader did. He was a year older than Tom. I'd tell you who he is, but I guess if he hasn't said anything yet, then it means he doesn't want everyone to know he was there. He was just visiting for the summer, so he didn't even really know any of us. But he took care of the three of us, Tom and Amanda and me. Kept us fed and as safe as possible in the situation. I doubt any of us would have made it without him. He's definitely my biggest hero."_

 _The reporter nodded once. "Did you children all stay in touch for the past few years?"_

 _Kevin shrugged. "Me and Tom and Amanda all went to a support group together. And me and Tom talked sometimes outside of that. He said he talked to our leader on occasion. They were working on a project together to-"_

Spock found himself unable to continue listening to what Kevin was saying, because his mind was too busy racing ahead to put all of the known facts together. Kevin had clearly started to say a name starting with 'J' to talk about his leader, and that he worked with Thomas Leighton on a project. James Kirk had worked with Thomas on making synthetic food, which also made sense as something survivors of a famine crisis would do. James was a very chatty person who rarely said anything of substance, at least when it came to himself and his own past. He'd sounded so bitter back in the hospital, where he'd been the one to bring up the subject of Tarsus, and then asked why all the survivors would be presumed to be victims. He had the personality of the type of person who cared about others, and lived nearby all three of the other children survivors.

It was a bizarre conclusion to reach, and yet Spock found that the more he thought about it, the more it made sense. Considering what an emotional person James was, the horrors of Tarsus must have hit him pretty hard, and given him severe issues. And it sounded like he had never even attended the support group of other child survivors, which means he probably never got any professional help.

The other children had lost their parents in Tarsus, but Spock couldn't help almost cruelly wishing it had been the other way around. That the Leightons and Redez' and Rileys had made it and that the Kirks had not. With everything else James would have suffered through in Tarsus, coming home to abusive parents and a brother that left soon after had to have only made everything much worse.

Everything Spock was feeling at the moment was entirely overwhelming, and for more reason than just because of the fact he was feeling anything at all. There was only one person he could really talk to in a time like this, and even though it went against their usual routine, Spock found himself dialing his mother's number before he could even really think about it.

She answered a few rings later than she normally would, sounding slightly out of breath. "Sorry, I was in the garden and had to run to answer when I heard the phone," she said with a breathless laugh. "Is everything alright, Spock?"

It took him a moment to collect his thoughts enough so that he could talk in a way that would come out sounding logical and proper. "I am unsure. Have you seen the news today, Mother?"

He could easily picture the little shrug and smile she must be giving him at the moment. "There's always a lot of news going on. Did something specific happen to catch your attention?"  
"An eight year old girl was killed today, early this morning. She was a Tarsus survivor. There are only two left, and one made a television appearance. Based on what the boy said, and other facts, I have arrived at the conclusion that James Kirk is also a Tarsus survivor. I find that the idea of someone coming to take his life after everything else he has already been through makes me uneasy. I am unsure of how to proceed."

Amanda made a soft noise. "Oh, kan-bu,"

"I am not a baby," Spock interrupted in a stiff voice.

Amanda laughed, though it didn't sound as cheerful as her normal laughter. "You'll always be my baby. As for what to do about James, I'm afraid that I don't have some magical answer to give you. If he really is from Tarsus, and there is someone actually going after the survivors, then his life could very well be in danger, which is terrible, but I'm sure that the police will be able to handle this."

Spock couldn't find himself summoning up the same certainty. The police hadn't exactly gone out of their way to help James in the past when he clearly needed it. But his mother might not understand that kind of argument. So he decided to go for a different one. "I was only able to figure out James' past through a series of different pieces of information that all fit together. I do not believe many other people have figured out the same thing, and knowing James, I do not believe that he would willingly share that information himself. Which means that there will be no one around to protect him."

Amanda sighed. "Spock… I know you want to help. You've always been so sweet and caring towards others, no matter how much you may deny it. And I know that James has really gotten to you over the past few months. But you do not have the training that would be necessary to protect yourself from a murderer, let alone James. And as you don't have any solid evidence to support James being one of the survivors, I don't think you can go to the police with this. I'm sorry, Spock, but I- hang on," Her voice suddenly went much softer, and Spock knew she must have lowered the phone. He could make out the sound of his father's voice, though it was too quiet to hear what he was actually saying.

Then he was being spoken to again, though this time it was in his father's stiff sounding voice. "Spock. I have not spoken with you in many weeks. I am aware that you have asked for your mother's advice on a serious matter. I have noticed over the years that you prefer to receive advice from a non-Vulcan such as your mother. However, in this case I hope that you will accept wisdom from your Vulcan side as well. If you care about this boy, and cannot find another way to resolve the matter, then you must take responsibility. As Vulcans, it can be difficult with us to find ways to connect with the world around us. There is very little out there not worth fighting against to protect those connections." There was a very rare fondness in Sarek's voice as he continued. "If I had not taken risks to protect what is important, I would not be the same person I am today. And quite possibly you would not have even been born."

It was rare to get an emotional response from his father in regards to anything, but Spock knew that his mother had always been the exception. She had refused to become a Vulcan, and Sarek had refused to convert out, but they had been sure enough about their places in each other's lives to know that it was worthy staying together despite that. Of course Spock didn't love James- that would just be weird considering the student/teacher relationship- but he did care about the boy's wellbeing. And almost like she'd been cued in, I-Chaya plopped down on Spock's foot as a weighty reminder of what James had done for him already. "Thank you, Father. You are very wise."

He hung up without speaking to his mother again, though he did tell his father to pass along the message that Amanda should just go back to her gardening and not concern herself too much over Spock at the moment. He crouched down to pet I-Chaya until his back gave a foreign feeling twinge, and then he headed out, back in the direction of the hospital. He wasn't sure exactly what he was going to do, but he knew that he needed to take some kind of action. Maybe he'd be able to convince James to go to the public with his story the way Kevin Riley did, or maybe he'd fight off a masked intruder from James' bedside, but either way, he couldn't do anything without getting closer to where James was at the moment. Maybe he should have brought I-Chaya as an emotional support pet, though the hospital most likely would not have allowed her in anyways. Though the real question was whether Spock though he needed emotional support for James, or for himself.


	17. Chapter 17

Jim stared at the blank TV screen as if it held all the answers in the universe. Unfortunately, it held nothing at all, since a nurse had stopped by a little while ago to turn it off, saying that it was raising his heart rate too much, and that he could try reading a book instead.

But there was no way Jim was even close to being in a mindspace where reading a book would be a good idea. Instead, he'd been staring at the dark reflective surface for longer than he had bothered to keep track of. Tom dying had been the first of the Tarsus survivor deaths to really hit him. The two of them were friends, and had worked hard together on Tom's synthetic food project. Jim had always been pretty resistant to letting other people in, but that had never stopped Tom.

Even with the damage to half of his face, Tom managed to charm and run witty circles around everyone better than anyone else Jim had met before, including himself. They'd gotten along great, almost as close as Jim was with Bones, with the added benefit of Tom already understand Jim's past in a way Bones hadn't until very recently.

Despite everything they'd been through, Tom had managed to maintain a genuine optimistic outlook on life that always irked Jim as much as it cheered him up. Tom was the most physically changed by Tarsus, and yet he managed to come across as the most untouched of them. So for him to die made everything feel far too real. Like if even Tom of all people was susceptible to death, then what could possibly be out there that could protect the rest of them?

And Tom's death had hurt for other reasons as well. Tom, like the other children, had remained pure throughout their time in Tarsus, because Jim had done everything in his power to keep them that way. He was the one with blood on his hands and between his teeth, and if any of them deserved to die before graduating high school, it should be him, and not Tom.

Tom's death had been terrible and tragic and made Jim vomit the moment he'd heard the news of his friend's demise. But as absolutely wretched as that had been, somehow this was even worse.

Amanda was dead now too. She'd been barely more than a baby during their ordeal in Tarsus, and hadn't been given much more time to grow up since then. In a way Jim had trouble describing out loud, Amanda had represented hope. She was young enough that it could be possible for her to forget and move on from Tarsus with minimal trauma compared to the others. And because she was so young, she represented the future. She could grow up and become anything, be anybody she wanted to be. Be someone who wasn't dragged down by her past.

She'd gotten sick a lot during Tarsus, probably from the rain everywhere and lack of proper food and nutrients. Maybe she never even got better, and just suffered from one long bought of sickness. But even when she was at her most ill, she could always manage to summon up one of her adorable little smiles. It was those smiles that made everything Jim did worth it. Tom and Kevin had been old enough to understand the hopelessness of the situation, and cheer had been difficult to come by for them. But Amanda had never stopped smiling, and believing that everything would be over soon. And now she was dead, run down on the street right out in public.

Jim was glad that he hadn't yet eaten breakfast when he'd first seen the news, or he definitely would have thrown up everywhere. As it was, he felt sick to his stomach, and adrenaline surged through his body even though there was nothing to fight at the moment. Now Jim and Kevin were the only two left, and Jim wanted to scream about the unfairness of a world that would let him survive over Tom and Amanda, and everybody else who'd died in Tarsus three years ago.

If it hadn't been for the knowledge that those three kids were relying on him, Jim wasn't entirely sure he would have made it through either. But those three had given him hope, and given him a purpose. Every time throughout those torturous six months that Jim had questioned why he'd ever had to go to Tarsus in the first place, he had been reminded that if he hadn't been there, his kids may very well not have survived. Tom was resourceful and clever, but far too naive and kind to fight for every scrap he could get. Kevin and Amanda had just been little kids who hadn't fully understood the situation beyond the fact that it was dire. So Jim had saved their lives, which meant that there was a reason for him to have lived through Tarsus. But now that the survivors were being picked off one by one, he couldn't think of a single reason that he was one of the two who were still alive.

Jim was startled out of his morbid thoughts by the sound of someone clearing their throat, and he jerked his head up to see Spock standing in the doorway. Jim's neck was sore from keeping it in such an awkward position for- he glanced at the clock above the door and realized he'd been sitting perfectly still for over three hours now. "Spock?" He didn't even bother trying to hide the confusion in his voice. There was no reason for Spock to come back here yet again. The teacher had already done more than enough for Jim. Certainly more than Jim deserved from anybody.

Spock took a couple of steps into the room. "I apologize for showing up here yet again without warning. Certain information has come to my attention that I believe would be prudent to share with you. Would it be alright with you if I were to close the door? The topic I have in mind does not seem like one that you would wish to be overheard."

Jim furrowed his eyebrows as he tried to figure out what the hell Spock could want to talk to him about that would need to be kept private. Everyone in town already knew all the juicy details about Jim's abusive home life, and he couldn't think of anything else Spock might want to chat about. Then again, his brain felt partially like mush, so he just nodded his permission, and stared at Spock, wondering if the numbness he felt would ever fully go away.

Spock gently closed the door with a soft click, and then turned to face Jim, only taking a single step closer so that there was still plenty of space between them. "Based on the distressed look you are currently displaying, am I correct in assuming that you have seen today's news?"

Jim shrugged. "Always sucks when a kid dies."

Spock nodded. "That is true. However, I feel that it may be especially relevant when the child in question has ties to the one who sees the news."

"Did you know her, Spock?"

The teacher shook his head once. "I did not. Though I do believe that you were acquainted with the child. Did you meet in Tarsus?"

The numbness started to recede, making way for shock. He'd gone three years with nobody knowing his secret, and then suddenly he's telling Bones and one of his teachers figured it out? Jim didn't want to show a lack of trust in his closest friend, but he also didn't doubt that Bones would do what he believed was in Jim's best interest, regardless of what Jim wanted.

Well, there was no point in denying it if Bones had already tattled. Though why he'd tell it to Spock of all people was something he'd have to ask his friend at some point. "We did."

Spock's eyes widened almost imperceptibly, like he was surprised that Jim would confess so easily. "Then I offer my condolences for your loss," he said after a long pause. Then he continued when it was clear that Jim wasn't interested in carrying the conversation. "Did you also see the news about Kevin Riley?"

Jim shot upright, feeling like his heart was about to beat right out of his chest. "Kevin's dead too?" His voice came out as a croak, as if he'd just spent the past few hours screaming instead of staring blankly at a TV that wasn't even on.

Spock quickly shook his head. "No, Mr. Riley is still alive. I apologize for worrying you. I should have realized that that would not be the correct way to lead into my question. I was simply curious as to whether or not you watched the special interview with Kevin Riley. He admitted to being one of the Tarsus survivors, under the hope that knowledge of his identity would provide him with protection that can't be received if the police are unaware of the next target."

Jim frowned. "I'm not sure whether to call him an idiot or a genius right now. It seems so risky to say anything publically. The killer might take it as some kind of sick challenge. Or he'll live through this but will be hounded by reporters until the day he dies." He sighed. "Why do you care about Kevin Riley's survival strategy? Or that I was in Tarsus?"

"I believe that Mr. Riley is correct in his assessment, that it will be easier to protect him if others are aware of who he is. However, I have no doubt that you do not wish to share your identity with the world, which leaves you unprotected, and therefore, the easier target. I am here to provide you with that protection."

Jim wrinkled his nose, trying to decide if his ears were broken or something, because there's no way that he heard what Spock had just said to him. "Are you serious right now?"

Spock nodded, and nothing about him seemed to indicate that he might be just messing around. "I have no reason or interest in telling jokes. I am only interested in ensuring your continued survival at this time, and I have no interest in violating your wishes if you do not want to go to the police. As a Vulcan, I have strictly disciplined myself in keeping my body in peak condition, and I can continue a fight much longer than a non-Vulcan because I will not be slowed down by pain."

Jim's shoulders slumped down, and he tried to figure out the best way to turn Spock down so that he would just go away already. Jim didn't need any kind of protection. "Well if you're going to be protecting anyone, I think that Kevin Riley needs it more than I do. He's just a little kid."

"You are also still a kid in the eyes of the law. And you have none of the protections or other support systems that Kevin Riley has in place. You are just as much in need of protecting as Kevin Riley, or anyone else. I am not trying to make you uncomfortable by imposing my presence, however I do strongly encourage you accept my assistance in this matter."

Jim narrowed his eyes. "Would you actually go away if I said that I didn't accept your help?"

Spock hesitated for just a second too long before responding. "Naturally."

They both stared at each other for a long moment before Jim sighed, and leaned back against his pillows. "Do whatever you want, I guess. I doubt that I could do anything to stop you, and I guess it's not the worst thing in the world to have a bodyguard." Clearly Spock hadn't really thought about what he'd do after convincing Jim, because he just continued to stand there. "So does this mean I get an extension on my work, since you think someone's out to kill me?"

Spock blinked once before shaking his head. "No. To prevent myself from falling behind in my own work, I have brought along my usual workload." He held up the faux leather briefcase that he always brought with him to school. "Would you feel more comfortable if I remain in the room, or sit out in the hallway?"

Well, Jim was pretty sure that no matter what he picked, he wouldn't really be able to call it 'comfortable'. But the idea of someone being out in the hallway seemed somehow worse and creepier than just being within Jim's line of sight. "In here, I guess. If you don't mind opening the door first."

Spock nodded once in acquiescence, and then turned to open the door again. Then he walked over to the chair that was up against the wall rather than the one next to the bed. He pulled out a pen and a clipboard that had a small stack of papers on it. Jim couldn't help snorting at the efficiency of it all.

Since the nurse had moved the TV remote to the other side of the room when she'd taken it from Jim, and he was too lazy to get it himself and too prideful to ask Spock to get it for him, Jim grabbed the book that was resting on his bedside table. Bones had brought it for him a few days ago when he'd complained of being too bored in the hospital. It was one of his favorites, _Anna Karenina_. He'd read it several times before, in both English and the original Russian.

But despite how much he loved the book, Jim found himself having some trouble getting lost in it the way he usually did when he was reading. When he wasn't stopping to think about what Amanda must have looked like as she was killed, he was thinking of losing Tom. And even when there was no deaths immediately on his mind, he was constantly aware of Spock's presence in the room.

After trying for a while, Jim finally let out an irritated sigh, and slammed the book shut, tossing it so that it bounced to the foot of the bed. Spock looked up at him. "Is something the matter?"

Jim raised one eyebrow. "Besides the fact that several people I care about have died and someone's probably going to try and kill me at some point and both of my parents are in jail and I'm stuck in this stupid hospital until social services works something out for me?"

Spock nodded. "Yes, besides all of that."

Jim rolled his eyes, and then slouched down until he was lying down all the way. He crossed his arms over his chest and stared up at the ceiling. "This whole situation completely sucks. I just want to go home. Maybe not to like my actual house or anything. But Bones' place is nice. And his family really likes me. So, you know, at least someone does." When there was no answer, Jim slowly turned his head to look over at Spock. "Sorry, I didn't mean to just start oversharing or anything. I know that you're just here to keep me safe. Just ignore me."

"I am the one who asked if there was anything wrong," Spock pointed out. "And I did not inquire merely to be polite. You are the one who rescued I-Chaya for me, so you deserve someone to listen to you, at the very least." He clicked his pen once, and then set it down on top of the clipboard. "I assume that you have not had many people in your life who you felt you could safely talk to. As a Vulcan, it would be easy for me to remain impartial."

Jim couldn't help looking slightly surprised. "Wait, you really want to listen to me babble on about all my problems? Oh, but I'd never be able to forgive myself if you fell behind in your grading because of me," Jim said in a teasing voice.

"I am perfectly capable of multitasking," Spock returned in a serious tone.

Jim gulped. "Oh. Well, uh, I mean…" He had so much baggage piled up that he was pretty sure he wouldn't be able to get it all out even if he talked nonstop for the next one hundred years. But he couldn't deny that the thought of being able to talk, and just be listened to, did seem nice. Maybe he could just stick to some of the smaller things. "Well, in that case, let me tell you about how I met Bones…"


	18. Chapter 18

Frankly, Spock had absolutely no idea what he was doing right now. And even worse, he had no idea how to even begin explaining any of this in a way that would sound even remotely logical or Vulcan. Jim had talked long enough to tire himself out, and had been sleeping fairly restfully for the past half hour or so. Spock stood to pace around the room so that he could give his legs a chance to stretch out, but didn't dare to leave the room when Jim was so vulnerable.

After a while, he heard voices in the hallway coming closer, and he casually leaned back against the wall next to the door so that he could listen in without appearing as though that was what he was doing. "-so nice of you," one of the nurses gushed. "You know, I'm actually a huge fan of your father's work. It is such a shame that he couldn't come here himself. Not that I'm trying to sound ungrateful! James loves the fine arts, and I'm sure he'll really appreciate you coming here to see him."

Spock furrowed his eyebrows in confusion as he recognized the voice that answered back. "It really is no problem. We chatted briefly after my performance at his school, and I could see that he was a good kid, so I just wanted to make sure that he is okay." That was Lenore Karidian, from that unappealing performance of Macbeth. He did recall seeing Jim and her talk after the play was over, and then they'd both disappeared off somewhere. Spock hadn't given the incident much thought, though, because the next day had brought news of Jim being hospitalized, and that had seemed far more important.

The nurse peered into the room, and her eyes widened when she saw Spock. She spoke softly, cognizant of the fact Jim was still sleeping. "Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't realize James had any visitors at the moment." She stepped in, and motioned for Lenore to follow her. "This is Lenore. She acted in one of James' favorite plays, so I thought it would be a nice treat for him to be able to see her."

There wasn't anything specific that Spock could point out as being bad, but there was just something about her that seemed unnerving to him. He hoped that she hadn't tried anything with Jim. He knew it would probably be considered an invasion of privacy, but Spock decided it would be in Jim's best interest if he stuck around during the visit. "I'm sure he would appreciate it. However, he could really use his rest after the stressful morning he's had."

Lenore tilted her head curiously, an unfamiliar gleam in her eyes. "Oh? What happened?"

The nurse shrugged. "I'm not entirely sure. I think he just found the news to be very upsetting. Seeing the reports of a young child's death must have reminded him of how close he had come to dying. Anyways, I think he wouldn't mind being woken up for such a special visitor." Spock wasn't sure of whether he should be surprised or not about the fact that Tarsus wasn't even on Jim's medical records. Spock didn't agree, but he didn't want to start an argument that would get him kicked out of the hospital, so he remained silent while the nurse gently shook Jim's shoulder.

He jolted up with a sharp gasp, eyes looking around the room wildly. He quickly settled down, putting on a mask that was good enough to fool the nurse. "Sorry, I was in the middle of a crazy dream," he said quietly. Then his eyes flicked over to Lenore, and it was hard to figure out exactly what emotion he was displaying in response to her presence. He finally settled on one of his charming grins. "Hello there, miss. I must say, I'm honored to have you make all the effort to come back to Riverside just for me."

Lenore shrugged. "It was really no problem. The Players haven't moved on from this town quite yet. We still have some business to finish sorting out. And besides, I am the one who should be honored. It isn't everyday a young man goes through everything in life that you have, and still comes out ahead." The nurse shook Lenore's hand, and joking asked if there was a way to get Anton Karidian's signature before hurrying away. Then Lenore glanced over her shoulder at Spock. "I know this will sound like a strange request, but would you mind giving James and me a chance to speak alone?"

Spock arched one eyebrow. "I'm sure I don't have to tell you how inappropriate-"

"It's alright," Jim interrupted. "Just a few minutes. I'm sure she's harmless enough."

Spock could tell that Jim was trying to use his charm and masks on him, but he didn't want to go against Jim's wishes so blatantly when there was so much in Jim's life that was wildly out of his control at the moment. So Spock nodded and stepped out into the hallway, and Lenore closed the door to the room behind him.

Feeling strangely fidgety, Spock pulled out his phone and did a quick search of the Karidian Company of Players online. There wasn't much information about them besides the locations of the various towns and cities they'd performed in on their latest tour, and the names of all the actors.

Out of curiosity, Spock clicked the link to Lenore's profile, and found that she had been raised in an orphanage until she was sixteen years old, when Anton Karidian had adopted her, and she had quickly joined the Company thanks to her love of acting and Shakespeare plays. He clicked the link for Anton, and found basically no information at all beyond his adopted daughter and the fact that he led the acting troupe since founding it four years ago.

After a few more minutes, Spock couldn't shake the feeling that something bad was going to happen, and he casually barged into the hospital room, planning on using the pretense that he'd left behind his important work that he needed to grade. Lenore and Jim both looked over at him, probably startled by his sudden appearance.

Lenore rolled her eyes, and then turned back to Jim. "Anyways, you should at least think about what I said. As soon as you're released from here, there is a pair of free tickets to our next performance with your name on them. It was nice to meet you, James." She gave Spock a nod of acknowledgement, and then left the room.

Spock walked closer to Jim's bed, and could see the tension pulling at all of Jim's muscles. "What did she wish to speak with you about?"

Jim shrugged. "Nothing important. Just wanted to invite me to the next Karidian play."

Spock glanced over at the clock on the wall. "It was a rather long conversation for a simple invitation. And why the need for privacy?" He knew he was acting uncommonly nosy, but he couldn't help having a bad feeling about what was going on.

Jim rolled his eyes, like Spock was being some kind of nuisance. "She also wanted to talk about some philosophy." From the way he said that, it seemed clear that he was alluding to something far more than just philosophy. Something that affected Jim personally. But if the teenager wasn't willing to talk about it, then there was nothing Spock could do other than sit down and get back to his grading, even if it did build up a slight feeling of helplessness inside of him. A feeling that he shouldn't even be capable of as a Vulcan.

He carefully avoided letting anyone see it later that day when his arm dragged over a splinter and left behind a little scratch.

,,,

The next two days passed mostly uneventfully, though Jim couldn't help feeling on edge. He'd already seen that the Karidian players had been in all the towns the Tarsus survivors had died in at the same time, and Tom had sounded convinced that Anton Karidian was Kodos- though that wasn't much to go off of since Tom had been a paranoid bastard since the day they'd left that place.

Spock remained vigilant by Jim's side, and he must've been calling in sick to the school, because otherwise he wouldn't be able to stay all day. And he sneakily avoided the nurses once visiting hours were over. It seemed as though the Vulcan was very dedicated to Jim's safety, though Jim still couldn't figure out why.

And then Jim got a visit from Lisa, who said that a lot of things had been worked out, and that he'd be released the very next morning. There was a temporary living space set up for him, and once he had secured a job, he'd be provided with an apartment. Rent would be paid for him, but utilities and all other expenses would be up to him to pay. It sounded like a dream come true, even if he would have to see a therapist once a week to talk about the 'trauma of being violently injured by a family member'.

For the next few hours, Jim was practically dancing around his hospital room, much to Spock's apparent amusement. He couldn't wait to get out of here. The nurses and doctors were nice enough, but Jim had definitely been starting to go stir crazy from being stuck here for so long. And his injury was mostly healed, so as long as he didn't do anything that involved intense physical exertion, he would be fine.

His temporary high was crashed down when there was a knock at the door, and Jim turned to see a little kid standing there. Even though he hadn't seen the boy in three years, he could recognize the outrageously red hair and freckled face. "Kevin?"

The kid nodded, and shuffled his feet awkwardly before tucking his arms behind his back. "My grandma had to come in for an appointment and I asked to come too 'cause I knew you'd be here." He glanced over at Spock for a second before looking back at Jim. "Is it bad that I came here?"

Well, it wasn't great, especially after Kevin's stunt on the news, but he couldn't deny the part of him that was overjoyed to see one of his kids still alive. "It's fine," he finally managed to whisper.

Taking that as permission, Kevin sprinted forward and knocked into Jim, pulling him into a tight hug. It pulled on his wound, but Jim didn't say anything. He just leaned down to return the hug. It felt like it had been a lifetime since he'd had this kind of contact with another human being.

They both sat down on the bed, and Kevin began rambling away about everything that had happened in the past few years. "-and they said that I was smart enough to go straight into the third grade when we got back, and now I'm in the sixth grade, and ever since the news, everyone in my grade has been calling me a hero, which is really cool, but they don't know that you're the real hero. I wouldn't even be here if it wasn't for you."

There was nothing Jim could say to dispute that, because he knew it was the truth. No one else had tried to get anyone out of that room once the shooting began, and after that, Kevin wouldn't have made it on his own. Not that Jim was proud of what he'd done to increase the chances of his children surviving, but he was just glad that it had been him who did all of that, and not them.

Even though Kevin was going on and on without any particular rhyme or reason, Jim was happy to listen to the kid talk about anything and everything that came to his mind. But then something was said that stopped Jim cold. "-play at school this morning. My teachers said it's 'cause the actors think I'm a hero too and want to do something cool for me, and the pretty lady gave me a cupcake, isn't that neat?"

Jim realized that the arm he had slung over Kevin's shoulder was starting to get too tight, and he quickly pulled away, hopping up to his feet. "That's really cool, I'm happy for you." He glanced over at the clock on the wall. "How long did you say your grandma's appointment was supposed to be? With everything that's going on, it would be mean to worry her."

Kevin looked slightly guilty. "I hadn't thought about that." He got to his feet as well, and gave Jim another hug. He spoke very quietly so that Spock wouldn't be able to hear him. "You haven't eaten the cupcake yet, have you?" It was a reasonable guess, considering the way that Jim himself tended to hoard high calorie food when he got it (unless he was around Bones, because he never wanted to worry his best friend). Kevin gave a very slight nod so that Jim would be able to feel the movement, but Spock wouldn't be able to see it. "Throw it away," Jim hissed. He had no idea who was really behind all the murders, but he wasn't going to take any chances with the only kid he had left. Kevin nodded again before pulling away. Jim ruffled his hair and chuckled like Kevin had just told him something funny. "Sure, sure. See you around, kid."

Kevin's eyes were wide with worry, but Jim knew that he would listen to him and throw out the cupcake, no matter how tempting it was to eat it. Jim wondered if there was some irony in the fact that he'd fed Kevin human meat without his knowledge or consent, but wouldn't let someone else feed the kid so much as a sugary dessert.

Kevin nodded, and then hurried away. Spock looked over at Jim with eyes that seemed far too knowing. "You look happy."

Jim shrugged. "He's a good kid."

"So are you."

Jim rolled his eyes. "I'm out of here tomorrow morning, Spock. You should be just as happy as me. Now you can go back to school and not risk getting fired for skipping so many days. And you won't have to worry about wiping my nose or tying my shoes for me anymore."

There was a pinched expression on Spock's face as Jim spoke. "I have never wiped your nose or tied your shoes since I have begun watching over you." He hesitated for a moment before continuing. "And while I am pleased on your behalf that you will be given back your freedom, I must admit that the idea of you living out on your own worries me, at least while the killer remains at large."

Jim scoffed. "Don't even worry about that. I know how to take care of myself." And he had his own plans on how to get rid of the killer, if only for Kevin's sake. Before Tom died, he'd sounded so sure that Anton Karidian was Kodos, and even if there had been a million other false alarms before that, Jim could recall that his friend had sounded even more desperate than usual. And then the Karidian players had shown up in Riverside in time for Amanda to be killed. And they had stuck around to give Kevin some special hero treatment.

He hadn't gotten the chance to meet Anton up close for himself, though he had seen the man's picture online. And he did resemble Kodos, even if it wasn't an exact match. Jim had heard Karidian speak during the play, but it had been affected by the distance between them, and the poor quality of the high school's microphones, and the other actors all talking as well, and the weird pseudo-British accent that all of the Players had adopted for the play. Jim would need to hear Karidian speak again to say for sure if it was really him. He didn't think he'd ever forget the voice of the man who'd doomed eight thousand people to die.

But even without knowing for sure if Karidian was Kodos, there was still something about Lenore that was definitely off. Hell, Kodos might be long dead and have nothing to do with the murders, but someone had to have commited them. It would have had to have been someone with access to the names of the nine survivors, but once they had those names, they'd be able to track everyone down easily enough. And the way Lenore had let him flirt despite him being a minor, and then her coming to visit him in the hospital to offer seats at the next play, all made her seem more than just a little bit creepy.

As soon as Jim was out of this joint, he was going to take Lenore up on her offer to watch the next play. And then he would leave near the end and wait by the exit so that Anton wouldn't be able to slip away this time. He would pull the man into a conversation, maybe ask for an autograph, and even if Anton just gave excuses and hurried off, it would still be enough to confirm if his voice matched to Kodos'. Then again, maybe Jim was turning into Tom, and he was going to start thinking that everyone sounded like Kodos. Too bad he wasn't a Vulcan. Then he'd be able to stay objective and not let his own feelings and fears get in the way of figuring out the truth.

That all seemed like way too much to explain to Spock, though, and he was pretty sure that the teacher would object to the idea of Jim going to confront someone he suspected of being a murderer. But this was something Jim had to do. For Tom, and Amanda, and the eight-thousand people who died in Tarsus, and to protect Kevin from being the next one buried. It was his job to make sure that an end was put to everything. He'd been friendly with Kodos, and had somehow never noticed the signs that the man was insane. And then he'd done despicable things in order to live. Catching the killer was the least he could do now to make up for everything he'd done in the past, especially now that his parents were locked up far out of reach.

Jim grinned, surprising even himself with how genuine he was able to make it look. "Besides, I bet you just can't wait to have a student back in class who actually does all of the work."

The tension between them seemed to break then, and Spock sat back down in his chair. "Yes, I suppose that that will be a good thing."

Jim settled himself back on the bed, already thinking through all the possibilities of the future so that he'd be able to make sure the Tarsus killer would never be able to hurt anyone else again.


	19. Chapter 19

Lisa had kindly offered Jim a ride back to his house from the hospital, and even though he could tell that Spock was just itching to butt in and offer instead, he took her up on it. She wasn't guarding him by watching him every second of the day, and he needed some privacy after being cooped up in the hospital for so long.

He still felt a bit sore when he was walking around, but it was practically nothing compared to how much pain he'd been in when he'd first woken up and been weaned off of the painkillers. He really was far too emotional. But there was no way to go back and change what he'd been feeling in the heat of the moment. All he could do was live with the consequences and hope that no one called him out for being too weak.

Lisa kept up some friendly chatter throughout the entire ride, and then offered to go inside the house with him so that he wouldn't have to face such a 'traumatic location' alone. He turned her down, though, saying that he needed to be able to do this on his own if he ever wanted to move past what had happened to him. Lisa gave him a sympathetic look, and then turned on the car radio, telling him to take his time.

Jim nodded gratefully, and then headed inside. It felt so strange to step through that front door, as if it had been a hundred years since he'd last been here, rather than just a few weeks. Of course there hadn't been anyone around to clean the place up, and when Jim made his way into the kitchen, he could see the dark brown stains from his own blood, and the chalk outline from where they'd hurried to draw around him before carting him away in an ambulance. It looked like something out of a horror movie. Hell, most of Jim's life seemed to look like something out of a horror movie, so maybe this scene was just fitting for him.

There wasn't time to stand around and dwell on the past, though. Instead, Jim needed to focus on the future, and on stopping the killer from getting to Kevin next. Jim swore that he was going to protect that kid if it was the last thing he ever did.

He backtracked to the front hal, and then made his way up the stairs. It was an odd feeling to not have to move as silently as possible. He could stomp around as much as he wanted to, and there was no one to get angry at him for it. He even lifted his foot high enough to slam it down on the next step, but ended up gently lowering it before he could even think. Apparently certain habits were just too well ingrained in him to go against them now.

Jim went into his own room first, so that he could grab a bag and start shoving in all the things that he actually wanted to keep for his new life. Mostly it was just clothes and school stuff, though there were a few sentimental items that had been gifted to him by Bones over the years. And there was a family picture that his mom never knew he'd taken custody of. She looked so young and happy in that photo, sitting casually on a picnic blanket. The handsome man sprawled out next to her, his hand resting on top of hers, was the love of her life, George Kirk, though he was angled in a way that made it difficult to see more than his profile. And lying across both of their laps was a young Sam Kirk, with both adults looking at him fondly. They looked like a complete and perfect family there. It was only once Jim had come along that everything had been ruined. He folded the photo up and slipped it into one of the pockets of his bag. It was the only evidence he had that the Kirks were allowed to be happy and carefree and loving.

Once Jim had finished grabbing everything from his room that he wanted, he went into Frank and Winona's room. He'd never been allowed in there for as long as he could remember, which meant that there had to be something good in there. Something worth keeping hidden from him. The door was unlocked, which really only proved how much of a coward Jim was for never having tried to get in before.

He looked around the room, and to his surprise, it seemed… perfectly normal. A slightly rumbled bed with the head pressed up against one wall, a closet, two dressers, and a small desk. Nothing to write home about. Though there was one thing that caught Jim's attention. He walked over to the little bedside table on the left side of the bed, and picked up the framed photograph that was resting there. It was a wedding picture of Winona and George, the slight bump of Winona's pregnant stomach barely visible beneath her poofy wedding dress.

Jim fumbled to pull the picture out of the frame, and then before he could even really think about it, he was tearing it in half down the middle, leaving on George Kirk and a disembodied hand around his waist. He wasn't even looking directly at the camera, too busy staring at his new wife in a way that Jim could only dream of ever being looked at. He dropped the Winona half of the picture to the floor, but tucked the George half away with the other family picture.

Curious about what other treasures the room might contain, Jim began rifling through every drawer and cabinet in the place. He found a fairly thick roll of cash in the underwear drawer, which he took for himself without bothering to count out how much it was. He found a lot of neatly folded clothes, and took great satisfaction in messing everything up so that it would all be wrinkled for sure by the time Winona and Frank came back here.

There was a dusty old cardboard box on the top shelf of the closet, and Jim carefully pulled it down and set it on the bed, not caring about spreading the dust to the blankets. He tore off the strip of tape that was keeping it shut, and his eyes widened when he realized that everything in the box had to have belonged to his father.

It wasn't a lot of stuff, but it was all stuff that Jim had never seen before. Pictures, a wallet, some pins and badges in fancy velvet cases, a few official looking certificates, two rolled up ties that had to be gag gifts- one had dancing pineapples and the other had little airplanes with sunglasses and smiley faces- a soccer trophy that was dated from George's college years, a book of baby names, and a small leather-bound journal. James greedily took all of it, eager to learn more about the man who'd given birth to him and then immediately abandoned him.

Then, just as Jim was ready to turn away and leave this place for good, he noticed a slight glint from the very back of the top shelf of the closet. Jim shoved at one of the dressers until it was slightly closer to the closet, and then he climbed up on it, kneeling so that he was high enough up to see what had been hidden behind the box of George's things. It was a little safe, built right into the wall.

Well there definitely had to be something good in there. Maybe more money. That would be nice. But it only mattered if Jim could actually get the damn thing open. He wasn't a safe cracking expert, obviously, but he could go to the computer and look up how to break into a safe. He'd smash it open if he had to, but it would probably be better if no one could guess that he'd gotten in.

After reading through a couple of different articles, Jim was confident that he knew what to do. He went back to his room, and dove under the bed to search until he found an old science kit he'd gotten for christmas ages ago. And inside, he found a magnet like the one mentioned most often in the articles.

He went back to his parents' room and climbed up onto the dresser again, clutching the magnet tightly in one hand. A few minutes later, there was a soft click, and the little light blinked green, which meant that Jim could open the door. Inside, there were passports and social security cards and tax papers and birth certificates, and all the other important things that adults generally needed. He shoved those aside, since they were completely useless to him, and pulled out the small wooden box that was underneath.

Jim flipped the latch and then opened the box, and he gasped at the sight of a small black gun and a box of bullets next to it. Suddenly motivated, Jim carefully went through all of the documents, and there was definitely no license to own a gun for either Frank or Winona. Which meant that this was an unregistered weapon.

He hesitated for a moment before taking the gun and the bullets and stuffing them to the bottom of his backpack. Then he put the wooden box back, closed the safe, and slid the dresser back to where it had started.

Satisfied with his haul, Jim slung his backpack over one shoulder, and carefully grabbed the cardboard box in both hands to make sure it wouldn't fall. He went back outside, and when Lisa spotted him, the trunk of her car popped open. He put his stuff there, and then got back into the passenger seat. "That's it?"

Jim shrugged. "Guess so."

She gave him a sad little smile. "Alright, then. I'll just take you to your temporary living. It's a youth hostel, which means you'll be sharing a room with ten other guys, but it's only going to be for a few days. A week at most, I promise." Suddenly, taking the gun didn't seem like such a smart idea. What if one of the other youths went through his things and found it and reported him? He'd never get the opportunity to take down Kodos.

Jim started in his seat as he realized that there was really only one reason to have that gun in his possession. Without even realizing it, he had come to the conclusion that the only way to deal with the killer for good would be to give them a taste of their own medicine. It's not like that would really be worse than anything he'd done in Tarsus, but to premeditate it made him feel sick to his stomach. He almost wished that he could talk to Spock about this, because the impartial words of a Vulcan would be useful in this case. But Spock was also a teacher, and therefore a mandated reporter. He'd have to tell someone about Jim's plan, and that wouldn't be helpful at all.

It didn't take them long to reach the hostel, and by the time they got there, Jim was still no more sure of what he was going to do than he had been when they'd first left the hospital that morning. There had to be some proper solution that would fix everything, but despite how intelligent Jim supposedly was, he couldn't for the life of him figure out what that solution might be. Just further proof that he didn't deserve the title of 'genius' or 'gifted'. He was just an ordinary guy- less than that, even. Jim sank down in his seat, not wanting to think about his future.

Lisa gave him a few last minute words of advice once they reached the hostel, and then she let him know that she would be back as soon as his new apartment was ready for him. "It's not too late to change your mind, you know. I understand that your familial experiences haven't been great, but family is very important to one's growth and development, even after they're officially an adult."

"I'm sure," Jim insisted. "I can take care of myself."

Lisa nodded once. "I know. You just shouldn't have to, is all." She popped the trunk so he could grab his meager amount of things, and then gave him the letter to give at the front desk instead of bothering to ask if he wanted her to accompany him inside. Jim thanked her for everything, and then headed inside, figuring that she was probably the type to wait until her charge had gone through the door before she'd feel comfortable with leaving.

Jim hesitantly walked inside and looked around. He wasn't sure what he'd been expecting a youth hostel to look like, but this place had a bright, cheery look to it. There were a few teens sitting around in the little lounge area, chatting with each other about some inane topic or another. Jim ignored them and walked up to the front desk, shifting the cardboard box into a single arm so that he could hand over the letter.

The woman behind the desk took the letter, and tossed it down without opening it. "So you're Lisa's latest stray, huh? You know, she only sends the really hopeless ones here, hoping that the last place they see before they're out in the world is a nice one."

"Yeah, I'm James Kirk. Great introduction to the place, makes it sound wonderful."

The woman laughed. "Hey, don't blame me, I just work the desk." Then she suddenly called out to one of the teens in the room. "Hey, Hikaru, show James to the boys' fifteen up room?"

A boy around Jim's age stood up and walked over. "Sure, follow me." They went through a door behind the desk, and then started down a small hallway. "I'm Hikaru Sulu. I decided to travel all around the country before starting college. Why are you here?"

Jim shrugged. "Home is shit."

Hikaru nodded understandingly. "Well, you won't be alone here in that regard. There's a few other kids here who had to get away from bad situations. I'm sure you'll make plenty of friends in no time. Everyone here is really friendly, I promise." Then he opened a door to a large room that had bunk beds evenly spaced around the walls, each bed with its own curtain. There were two drawers underneath all of the bottom bunks. "You can be my bunkmate if you want." He stopped in front of one of the bed sets, which looked the same as all the others. "Everyone here respects the privacy of the curtains, so if your curtain is drawn, nobody is going to bother you. You can put your stuff into the left drawer."

Jim crouched down and pulled open the drawer. It had three separate compartments. Jim wasn't sure it would be a good idea to unpack everything for such a short amount of time, though, so he just pulled the curtain aside and dropped his stuff right onto the bed. "Do you know where the nearest bus stop is around here?"

Hikaru shrugged. "I have my own car, but there's a lot of tourist pamphlets and stuff, since most people who stay here are travelers, so you should be able to find something. Or you could try asking Emma- she's the lady at the desk. She knows a lot about the stuff that goes on around here." Hikaru clapped his hands together. "Hey, me and some of the others were planning on holding a Smash night tonight, if you want to join in-?"

"Thanks, man. I really appreciate your help, but I think that I just need some time to myself right now."

Hikaru nodded, seemingly unbothered. "It's cool. If you need anything else, just ask around. I've been here two weeks, and so far everyone has proven themselves to be very friendly." Then he left the room.

Jim looked around at the other drawn curtains. It made him feel uneasy to not know if there was anyone else in the room or not. Not just for the sake of planning what to do with the gun, but also because it meant that someone could pop up right behind him at any time. Especially when he'd be vulnerable in his sleep. He might have to find a secluded couch in one of the other rooms to crash on instead, though then he'd be leaving his stuff in the hands of all those strangers.

Jim sighed, and decided that at the moment his first priority was figuring out if Anton Karidian was really Kodos or not. Everything else was stuff he could figure out after that.


	20. Chapter 20

If anyone were to question him about it, Jim would definitely deny that he felt nervous to show up at a play. Usually he loved the dramatic arts, and he could appreciate the effort that the Karidian Players put into making their own unique interpretations of classical plays. But he wasn't here tonight to enjoy the entertainment. He was here to try and figure out if a mass murderer was still among the living, and if another killer was on the loose as well.

His palms were sweatier than normal, and Jim really hoped he didn't do anything clumsy enough to injure him, because with how nervous he was feeling at the moment, he was afraid that any injury would turn out to be something pretty big and unfortunate. Jim's leg wouldn't stop bouncing up and down as he watched the play drag on. He already forgot what it was supposed to be, and found that he didn't really care.

He just kept glancing at his watch, and at the playbill to try and figure out once they were near the final act. And then it was almost time for everyone to take their final bows, and Jim leapt out of his seat like it was on fire, rushing to the exit. He went around the building and then leaned up against the wall next to the back door, hoping that this was the one that Anton Karidian would leave through. At the same time, he hoped that he would remain alone out there. Somehow confronting the man who'd basically signed eight-thousand death warrants wasn't the most fun idea Jim had ever had.

But fortunately (or unfortunately, perhaps), the door swung open, and the star of the play shuffled outside, bag slung over one shoulder. "Hey," Jim said casually, though it clearly still startled the man. "I'm a huge fan. I know you leave because you don't like getting involved with your audience, but I'd just about die to have your autograph."

Karidian slowly turned around, and then looked Jim up and down. His jaw clenched tightly enough that Jim could see the man's veins popping on his forehead. "I don't do autographs."

Jim tilted his head. The voice certainly sounded close, but he needed a larger sample size to be certain. "Why not? Afraid that someone will realize it matches the signature of Governor Adrian Kodos?"

It looked as though all of Karidian's muscles tensed up, and Jim gulped at the idea that maybe Tom had actually been right. "I don't have time for this. I have important appointments to keep that a boy like you wouldn't understand." Yes, from what Jim could recall, this voice was a perfect match to the man who had called for the executions of thousands of people, and then failed to save the other thousands of them in the end anyways. Holy shit. Tom had been right, and Jim had done nothing, and Tom was dead, and-

Jim took in a deep breath, then slowly let it out, trying to maintain an air of coolness. He couldn't let Karidian know just how upset he was. He didn't want to make himself look emotionally vulnerable enough that Karidian would think he was an easy target. "A boy like me? I wonder if I should be offended that you don't even remember my name, after you went through all the trouble of tutoring me yourself, and then pulling me aside before the killing started."

Karidian's breathing grew heavier, and he clenched his hands into fists. "I don't- I've never seen you before in my life."

Jim arched one eyebrow. "You were a better liar when you told the people of Tarsus that help would be on the way. Now let me guess, you're going to lie when you say you didn't kill off the survivors one by one?"

The back door opened again, and this time it was Lenore Karidian who stepped outside. She looked back and forth between Jim and her father, an almost manic amusement in her eyes. "I'm so pleased to see that you took me up on my offer to see our play. I do hope you enjoyed it, since it will be your last one." She spoke with a pleasant enough grin on her face, which only made for an overall creepy look as she pulled a gun out of her bag.

Karidian looked stunned as he turned to Lenore. "What have you done?"

Lenore glanced over at him, this time with a more genuine smile. "I did it for you, Father. I know that their faces have haunted you for too long. You wake up at night screaming because they torment you. But they don't any longer. Once this one is gone, it will be easy enough to get to the last one. And I know that Kirk has haunted you the most, Father. I will rid the world of these ghosts, and you will finally live in peace."

Karidian moaned as if the words physically hurt him. "More blood on my hands! I do not need more blood on my hands!"

Lenore shook her head. "But there isn't, Father! I've taken this burden on for you, so that you did not have to. Once the world is cleansed of your ghosts, we can be happy, Father!"

Karidian squeezed his eyes shut, and clenched his fists tight enough that his fingernails drew blood from his palms. "You were supposed to be the one thing I did right in this world. You were supposed to be clean of my sins."

None of them expected the sudden new voice barking out at them. "Drop the gun, Miss Karidian. Your entire confession has already been filmed and emailed to the police." The three of them all turned, and Jim's heart leapt in his chest at the sight of Spock standing there, looking like some kind of savior. How had he even known where to find Jim? But that was a question for some other time. Maybe when there wasn't a gun being pointed in his face by a crazy lady.

Lenore continued to shake her head, making her hair bounce around her face wildly. "I have to do this!"

Karidian reached up and snatched the gun out of Lenore's hand, flinging it away. Outside of the small circle of light caused by the single bulb above the door, it was impossible to see where the weapon had landed. Jim's shoulders slumped down in relief, and he felt overwhelmingly grateful that Spock had come here to save him. He also silently kicked himself for not having planned out the idea of capturing a confession. He really was a dumbass sometimes, wasn't he?

Jim turned to look over at Spock. "Hey, I don't suppose you'd be willing to give me a ride back? I'm not sure if the bus still runs this late."

Before Spock could respond, Lenore was darting forward and grabbing the gun from where Jim had tucked it down the back of his pants. He cursed himself for being stupid enough to show her his own weapon, but obligingly raised his arms up. "You are a vile curse," she spat at him. "Even if it were not for my Father's sake, I would feel that it is necessary to wipe you from this world before your curse can spread to any others."

"Just put the gun down, Lenore," Jim commanded in a soft voice. He just knew that Bones would kill him if he got himself killed here. And then he'd probably spit on Jim's grave just for good measure. Or at least, it was easier to imagine Bones being pissed off than Bones being sad, the way he had been when Jim had been stabbed. And he couldn't do that to his best friend, which meant that he couldn't let himself die here. "It's already over. Your father is Governor Kodos, and he is responsible for nearly eight-thousand deaths, at least half of which were very painful, brutal deaths. And you've already murdered seven innocent people, including two children. There's no way that you're going to be allowed to walk free after that. Either of you."

Lenore scowled. "You don't know that! Once everyone realizes that I had to do it, they won't persecute me! They'll know that I was doing the world a justice, and that I was only trying to help my father, the way that any good daughter would!"

Jim glanced over at where Spock was standing, still holding his phone up in the position of someone who was recording a scene. Which meant that it was on Jim to stop Lenore, because it looked like Karidian was already completely checking out, unable to handle the truth of what his daughter had done. So without giving Lenore any warning, Jim lunged forward to try and grapple the gun out of her hands.

She kept a tighter grip this time, apparently unwilling to let go of her second chance at murdering him, but Jim didn't want to die- as much as it surprised him to realize. Sure, he felt a lot of guilt and pain and anger for everything he'd done in Tarsus. But he knew that what this family had done was far worse, and they were the reason that Jim was plagued by constant nightmares and guilt.

As Jim twisted around in circles, trying to get the gun away from the maniac, Lenore started firing off rounds at random, and Jim felt a burning feeling as one scrapped by the side of his stomach. He just grit his teeth and kept going, though, unwilling to just give up. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see that Spock had lowered his phone, and was standing there with a helpless look on his face, clearly unsure of what he could do in this situation. As far as Jim was concerned, though, Spock had already done more than his fair share of helping.

Then, after one of the shots, which were all so loud that Jim could barely even hear anything else over the sound of ringing in his ears, Jim watched as Lenore's face seemed to crumble, and she let out a loud screech. She dropped the gun and dove forward towards her father, who was sinking to the ground, a look of shock on his face.

Jim watched with wide eyes as Lenore cradled Karidian's face on her lap, as he clutched his hand to his chest, where dark red blood was spilling down his body. He opened and closed his mouth a few times like he wanted to say anything, but then his eyelids slid down and his arm fell to the ground with a soft thud.

Lenore let out a loud scream. "Father! No, Father! I did everything for you! Father!"

Either Spock had called the police before announcing his presence, or someone inside had heard the sound of gunshots and had called them in. Either way, Jim heard sirens getting closer, and he knew that Lenore was probably going to be locked up for life because of her crimes. For killing Amanda and Tom and the others. And yet, despite knowing what she'd done, Jim couldn't help almost feeling bad for her as she rocked back and forth, clutching her father's corpse.

Jim didn't know when he'd started crying, but he suddenly tasted salt on his lips, and he sank down to his knees, reached over to press one hand against the side that had been shot. The bullet hadn't actually gone in him, but the injury was still bleeding and painful. Then there was a large jacket being draped over his shoulders, and he was being tugged down into a sitting position, with his back leaned up against the brick wall of the building. He glanced over, and saw that Spock was sitting next to him, looking ready to pounce if he had to. Spock didn't look at Jim until after several long seconds of assessing the scene in front of them. "It was very foolish of you to come here alone. You could have been killed, and no one would have known who did it, or why."

"I know," Jim muttered.

Spock sighed. "It was incredibly ill-advised, and yet I cannot deny that you are quite brave to confront the killer on your own." There was a moment of silence before he asked the question that must have been on his mind since he first joined the encounter. "Is he truly Kodos?" Spock didn't need to point to the dead body, or specify who he meant.

Jim pulled his knees up to his chest, wincing at the way it shifted his new injury, and then pressed his face against the tops of his knees. He nodded once. "Yeah. That bastard is responsible for almost eight-thousand innocent deaths. And probably the majority of my trauma came from Tarsus. He deserves what he got. To be killed by someone he trusted, the way that those first four-thousand people were. But I don't feel any better than I did before."

Spock arched one eyebrow. "I can think of very few situations where another death is the solution to the deaths that came before them. Though I don't know what would be better in this case, unfortunately."

Jim tried to smile despite what felt like a million different emotions running through him at the same time. "Does this mean you're actually admitting that you don't know everything?"

"I have never claimed such a thing," Spock said indignantly. "I am a Vulcan, which means that I am logical enough to understand that no human being could ever know everything that there is to know in this universe."

They both sat there in silence for a few minutes after that, and then the police were there, gathering the two guns, arresting Lenore, zipping Karidian into a body bag, pulling out pads and pens to start asking Spock and Jim what had gone down. Spock demanded that Jim be given medical treatment before he was asked any questions. The ambulance arrived quickly, and they cleaned and bandaged Jim's newest injury, which wasn't even deep enough to require stitches.

Then Spock and Jim were driven to the police station, where they were put into separate rooms to be spoken to. Someone handed Jim a blanket at one point, and he just wrapped it around Spock's jacket, which he'd refused to take off just yet. Then a police officer and a therapist came in. The therapist seemed grumpy at first, probably about being called in so late, but once Jim started talking, their attitude shifted to one of sympathy, and Jim's words were recorded as well as written down by them.

Once the adults left the room, Jim got up and walked over to press his ear against the door curiously. "-child welfare. But they'll be hard pressed to make the case that he's capable of living on his own and caring for himself when he acted so recklessly tonight. He seems like a smart kid, though. Sweet, too. I'm sure someone would be willing to take him in."

Jim sighed and retreated back to the uncomfortable metal chair. He should have known that his actions tonight would affect his ability to be treated as an adult. But even so, it was still worth it. To get Lenore and her father off of the streets, there was very little that wouldn't have been worth it. And now Kevin was safe, and Jim was too. It was a good feeling.

Of course Jim wasn't stupid enough to believe that this meant everything about Tarsus was behind him now. It had only given him more fuel for his nightmares, unfortunately. But at least now there wouldn't be anyone out there specifically trying to kill him, which did help make him feel a little bit safer. And as he tugged Spock's jacket even tighter around himself, Jim couldn't helping thinking, once again, about just how damn grateful he was that Spock had shown up. Things might have gone down a lot differently without the Vulcan there. He'd have to thank Spock in the morning.

For now, though, Jim was content to just rest his head on his arms on the metal table, and close his eyes. It felt like the night had lasted for about a million years, and he was looking forward to some good old fashioned sleep.


	21. Chapter 21

Spock felt a bone deep exhaustion as he let himself into his apartment, shuffling his feet more than he ever did. He gently closed the door behind him, and then trudged over to the couch to just sit down for a moment. He had his jacket draped over one arm, unwilling to put it on despite the chill outside because of the blood that was just starting to turn a rusty color.

It had been a very long night, and of course Spock was just glad that Jim was okay, but he still felt very unsettled. Jim had been taken to a temporary foster home after being thoroughly questioned about everything that had gone done. The social worker they'd called in had convinced Jim to return Spock's jacket, and Spock couldn't help feeling a bit bad about that, since anyone could see that Jim had found it to be a comforting presence. And now Spock had it in his possession, but he already knew he'd never be able to wear this jacket again. No matter how many times he washed it, he'd always see it stained with Jim's blood.

Spock also knew he wasn't going to be getting any sleep tonight. Every time he closed his eyes, he could see Jim with a gun pointed to his head, and Jim grappling the lady with the gun, and Jim looking so pale and young and tired and hurt and everything else that no one should have to be, let alone a child.

Going to the theater had just been a hunch, but Spock had remembered Lenore's offer to Jim, and even though it had made him feel like something of a stalker, Spock had felt the need to go and check it out for himself. Something about Lenore had set his teeth on edge from the time he'd seen her talking to Jim, and now he was glad that he'd gone with his instinct, as un-Vulcan a thing as that was.

I-Chaya walked over to him, and gracefully leapt up onto the couch, and then walked back and forth across it a few times before settling down on Spock's lap in the perfect position for him to be able to pet her. Spock gave her a strained smile as he rested his hand lightly on her head. "You have a rather uncanny ability to know when I am- when I am upset." Spock frowned to himself as he raised his hand up to actually pet the cat, and saw the way that his hand was shaking. He slowly lowered it back down.

At this point, could he even truly consider himself a Vulcan? Growing up, he had always tried to be as thoroughly Vulcan as possible, to disprove all the comments about him not being capable of being a real Vulcan because of his mother not being one. And he had succeeded in his goal, to the point where no one had been overly worried at the idea of him moving to a predominantly non-Vulcan area to teach, because they were sure he would never be swayed.

And yet here he was, shaking at the thought of the violence that had nearly taken Jim's life yet again, and sick at the thought of the blood on the inside of his jacket, and very concerned for Jim's welfare. He'd gotten a papercut. Any injury at all was a sure sign that he must have been feeling some emotion. He knew it probably was nothing to compared to how much Jim felt, both physically and emotionally, but for someone who'd proudly called himself emotionless for his entire life, everything now just felt far too intense. He wanted to laugh and shout and maybe even punch something (or someone, but Vulcans weren't violent, and he really shouldn't hate a clearly mentally ill woman, but-).

Before Spock could think about it more, he noticed a few drops of water landing down on I-Chaya's back, and she looked up at Spock, but didn't move from her spot on his lap. Spock slowly reached up with his other hand to wipe at his eyes, and was shocked when they came away wet. Had he ever cried before? Maybe he had, long ago, when he was just a child. No baby could be born understanding the importance of letting go of emotion. It's why many Vulcans found child-rearing to be distasteful, at least for the first year or so. Babies were full of emotions, and had no way of even expressing the majority of them. Spock felt a bit like a baby right now.

What was he even supposed to do now? Meditate and center himself? Call his mother? Just break down in sobs like on all those dramatic soap operas that were his mother's secret guilty pleasure?

Then I-Chaya suddenly dislodged Spock's hand when she hopped down to the floor, and Spock wondered if he had been crazy to personify her in the first place. But she walked over to the front door and sat down in front of it, and a moment later, there was a soft knock there. Spock furrowed his eyebrows in confusion, and glanced down at his watch. It was just past one in the morning; definitely too late for visitors.

He wondered if the police had come with follow up questions already, and got up, rubbing his arm over his eyes a couple of times and hoping that he'd gotten rid of the evidence of his weakness before he opened the door, giving I-Chaya a stern look that would hopefully actually keep her inside this time.

Spock opened the door, and then felt almost frozen in place as the shock hit him. A few weeks ago, or even a few days ago, Spock probably would have slammed the door shut again immediately. Instead, he just opened it wider, and took a step back so that his older brother could step inside.

Sybok inclined his head to show his gratitude as he stepped inside. "Spock. I wasn't sure how you would receive me. Amanda said that you would be too busy to have me over, but I know she only said that because you told her you wanted nothing to do with me." He closed the door behind him, but didn't try to move any further into the apartment, which Spock found himself oddly thankful for.

"Why are you here?"

Sybok frowned. "Is it so hard to believe that I have missed you? We were so close once upon a time." After giving Spock a closer look, Sybok's face filled with concern. His hands twitched, making it seem as though he wanted to reach out, but was afraid of Spock rejecting him. "What happened? Were you… crying?" He sounded so puzzled and worried.

Of course Spock's first reaction would be to immediately deny it. Vulcans didn't cry because Vulcans didn't feel, and that's why Vulcans lived longer lives than anyone else and had a freedom that no one else would ever understand and- "Yes," Spock answered stiffly. If there was anyone who would understand at this moment, then maybe it was Sybok. Perhaps it was fate that he'd shown up now. Though the exact timing of it was a little odd. "Why are you here at such an inappropriate hour?"

Sybok sighed. "It took me a bit of work to actually find you, and I got here a few days ago. But I was scared to approach you. It's been so long since we last saw each other, and there were a lot of angry words shared between us that last time. I had finally worked up the courage today, but you left in such a hurry. I waited outside all night until you got back, and I thought that I should take my chance before I could lose my courage. But why I'm here can wait. I am much more immediately concerned with what could get my Vulcan brother to cry."

"Is this some great victory for you?"

Sybok quickly shook his head. "No! It pains me to see you in pain. I want all Vulcans to embrace emotion, and I do believe that feeling pain is an important part of development, but I would never want that to be the first thing you must feel. And because you are my dear brother, I only ever wished for you to feel happiness and joy. There is so much of it in this world, and I had always assumed there was plenty to go around."

The sincerity in Sybok's words were almost as startling as his appearance itself. Sybok had not embraced the Vulcan ways and had tried to overthrow the council, but back then he had still been awkward and unsure of himself, not used to letting himself be human. Apparently the years he'd spent away from the Vulcans had done him a great deal of good. If Spock hadn't been raised alongside Sybok, he never would have guessed that his brother had started off Vulcan.

Perhaps it was because of that earnestness, or maybe it was because he had once trusted Sybok above all others, or even just because Spock was in desperate need of someone he could talk to who would actually respond with more than soft purrs. Whatever the reason was, Spock found that he wanted to talk to Sybok. He led his brother over to the couch, and motioned for him to sit. Sybok glanced at the bloody coat, and then his eyes raked over Spock, presumably checking for any injuries.

Spock found that he didn't want to sit down, because despite how exhausted he was, he also felt like he had way too much energy pent up inside of him that he needed to deal with. He paced back and forth a few times before stopping and turning to look at Sybok. For a moment, it felt just like when they were kids, and suddenly Spock was talking about everything that had happened in the first few weeks. It wasn't even until he got to the end of explaining what had gone down tonight that he realized he kept calling Jim 'Jim' instead of 'James'.

When he was finally done, Spock felt out of breath, and it was an unfamiliar feeling, since being Vulcan came with having enough endurance and stamina that he could run nonstop until he needed food or water. Sybok stood up, and took a couple of steps closer to Spock. "Would it terribly offend you if I were to offer you a hug?"

Vulcans were never big on physical touch with one another. "I suppose, just this once, I shall allow it," Spock graciously decided.

Sybok nodded, and it wasn't a look of smugness or victory on his face. Merely the look of a man who wished to comfort his younger brother. It was only for that reason that Spock returned the hug instead of tensing up as arms were wrapped around him. Admittedly, it felt… nice. Spock wasn't sure how long was the appropriate length for a hug to last. He was almost sure that this one went on for a bit too long, but he found that he didn't mind it as much as he'd thought that he might.

Then the brothers separated, and both sank down onto the couch. Spock looked at Sybok with wide eyes. "You are the expert on emotions, are you not? Tell me what I should do now." He knew that despite his demand, his voice sounded weak, and he hoped that Sybok would not point that out to him.

He was surprised to hear Sybok chuckle in response. "You make it sound as though it is possible for anyone to truly understand emotions. They are vastly unpredictable and pesky things, and they are different for each person that experiences them. I cannot tell you what to do, Spock. But I think that you would not feel conflicted unless you already had an idea of what needs to happen next."

Spock looked down at his hands, wondering how they could look so clean even though so much had happened that should have covered them in blood or dirt or something. "I find myself wanting very badly to personally ensure Jim's safety, and yet I fear that that is the precise reason why I cannot."

Sybok nodded. "It is alright to be unsure of what to do, you know. Normal people don't stop and try to plan out everything that's going to happen, and every reaction that they're going to get to their actions. You don't have to be perfect, Spock. Just be human."

"I do not know if I can let go of being Vulcan so easily. It has been my entire life. I enjoy having control over myself and my life."

Sybok smiled. "I know you do." He gave a small smile. "I always found it so odd how everyone always assumed you would be a terrible Vulcan because of Amanda being non-Vulcan. Yet they never blamed Father, despite me choosing not to be Vulcan and having two Vulcan parents. I imagine that the bias against you must have only gotten worse after I left. They would have assumed you'd turn down the same path as your brother, right?"

Spock shook his head. "The opposite. I believe that seeing me maintain my composure and standing as a Vulcan in spite of our brotherhood was taken as proof that I was truly Vulcan. If even you could not turn me away from my path, then nothing could. And I also believed that, for a very long time. But now I don't know what to believe."

"Ah, that's the beauty of the world, Spock. There are a million and one different things out there to believe in, and a million more that you could make up yourself with that brilliant brain of yours. But there's no rush. Whatever you decide will be just fine."

"Unless I decide to be Vulcan?" he asked wryly.

Sybok shrugged. "If that's truly what you want, I won't try to stop you. Like I said, I just want you to be happy, Spock. But you should not have been forced to choose that path without understanding the other available options. No infant should be."

Spock stared over at his jacket, and wondered if he could even throw it away. "Letting go of the Vulcan way means embracing vulnerability. Jim is perhaps one of the most emotional people I have ever met, and he is often getting injured."

"Being open to your emotions makes it possible for you to get injured, but it isn't some kind of guarantee. From what you've told me, it sounds like Jim was in a bad situation that he had no control over, but not every non-Vulcan's situation is the same as his, and it would be foolish to assume such a thing." Sybok was silent for a moment before continuing in a softer voice. "Be brave, Spock. Talk to Mother tomorrow, but most importantly, let yourself feel. It's going to suck for a while, because you're going to suddenly look back on a lot of different moments from your life and suddenly remember how you would have felt back then if you had allowed it, and it's all going to feel very overwhelming, but I believe that you're capable of handling it. You've always been better than me at just about everything, so if I could do it, then there's no reason that you can't." Spock yawned before he could stop himself, and Sybok gave him a sympathetic look. "Get some sleep. I'll come back in the morning."

Spock stood and nodded towards the couch. "You are welcome to stay here."

Sybok smiled warmly. "Thank you. I think I'll take you up on that, then." He looked towards the jacket, still draped over the couch. "And maybe tomorrow you should talk to Jim to. Tell him how you feel. Explain to him how much it scared you when he put himself in danger like that. He doesn't sound like the type of person to actually follow through with keeping himself safe, but hopefully he'll at least listen, and then you'll have gotten some of it off of your chest."

Spock nodded in agreement to the advice. "I am regretful that I told Mother not to share my information with you. I am not sure that anyone else would be able to understand me quite so well at this moment. Though do not think I've forgotten that you have some other motive for finding me. We will discuss that once we have both gotten a sufficient amount of rest."

"Good night, Spock."

Spock nodded again. "Good night, brother."


	22. Chapter 22

Jim looked up at the sound of a knock on the door, and shuffled over to pull the door open. Emilia, one half of the married pair that had volunteered to foster him until something else was figured out, was standing there with a friendly smile on her face. "Good afternoon, Jim. Lisa Sheldon is here to speak with you, if you're feeling up to it."

Jim shrugged. "Sure. I'll be down in a minute." Emilia nodded, and left to make small talk with the social worker. Jim closed the door and scrambled around for a minute to change from his sweat pants to a pair of jeans, and to run his fingers through his hair a few times. He didn't bother finding a mirror to check, because he was already well aware of the fact that he looked like a mess. He was also pretty sure that Lisa would be able to tell if he used extra time to pull himself together all last minute. She seemed to be a pretty sharp lady.

He headed downstairs to the living room, where Lisa was already seated on one couch, holding a cup of coffee in her hand. She looked up and nodded towards Jim. "Hello. How are you feeling?"

That seemed like a loaded question regardless of whether or not Lisa was referring to his mental or physical well-being. It's not like getting shot was very comfortable, and the getting shot at part wasn't so pleasant either. So he just shrugged. "Fine."

Lisa gave him a look that said she knew he was lying, but didn't try to push the matter. "So Emilia and Carmen have told me that you've been pretty eager to find out what's going to happen with you."

"Wouldn't anyone be, in my situation?"

Lisa snorted. "Probably. Anyways, when you were in the hospital a few weeks back, we had discussed that you deserve to be treated as an adult, and given the opportunity to decide for yourself what will happen. And despite some of the choices you've made lately, I still believe that that's true. The only part that's changed is what you're allowed to choose between. I know that you plan on heading out on your own as soon as you're eighteen anyways, so placing you with a family to be adopted seems silly, when there are so many children out there who actually want that. Unless you've changed your mind about that?"

Jim silently shook his head, and Lisa nodded like that's what she had expected. "However, based on your actions, going out of your way to confront someone you suspected to be a very dangerous individual, has me worried about what you may do if you are given the opportunity to live on your own right away. To tell you the truth, I'm rather annoyed that whoever put together your file never deigned to mention the fact that you were in Tarsus. Like the rest of the survivors, your identity was kept hidden, even from people who could have used it to help you. I wanted you to be in therapy just from what I knew of your home life, but now I am going to be even more insistent.

"The easiest way to ensure you actually make it to sessions would be to put you in a group home, which would also give you the chance to speak with others your age who have been through trauma. However, I know that those places can feel rather stifling, especially to free-spirited individuals such as yourself. Emilia and Carmen both have training in working with traumatized teenagers, and have offered to keep you here until your birthday. Staying here would be the only way to keep you in Riverside, since unfortunately this is a small town and does not have the same level of resources that some nearby cities can boast. And I promise that no one is going to be upset with whatever you choose. I'm only sorry that your options have become so limited."

Jim leaned back in his seat, and crossed his arms over his chest as he thought about it. Lisa kindly remained quiet so that he wouldn't have any distractions. He knew that a lot of people would want to leave after everything they'd been through in a particular location. It's what Sam had done. But Jim had more- or at least just as many- good memories here as bad. He knew he could easily be charming and friendly, but doubted he'd ever be able to find a friend like Bones anywhere else. And even if they promised to stay in touch, it would never be the same as seeing each other everyday. And there was something about Spock that just made Jim curious to find out more.

He sighed. "I don't want to leave Riverside," he admitted. "And the ladies here are nice. It's only for a couple of months, right?"

Lisa nodded. "Right. It's a short amount of time, but I do hope that you will be able to build up a sufficient support system before you go. And I also know that I can force you to continue going to therapy once you turn eighteen, since your actions have been deemed as reckless endangerment of yourself, and due to your past, I am worried about a situation like that occurring again. There won't always be a Spock to interfere, and next time could leave more injury than a graze. But I don't want to have to force you to go anywhere that you don't want to go, so I'm really hoping that we find you a good person to talk to now so that you'll actually want to keep talking to them."

Jim furrowed his eyebrows. "You think I went after Kodos to get myself killed?"  
Lisa shook her head. "Not intentionally, no. But I do think that you'd be willing to throw yourself into any manner of dangerous situations if you thought it would do anyone else even an ounce of good. Being noble is one thing, Jim. Thinking that your life is more disposable than someone else's a whole different thing. It's a dangerous way of thinking, and not one that we want encouraged. You may want to stay alive, but be willing to die for someone else isn't healthy."

"Are you supposed to be telling me all of this stuff?"

Lisa shrugged. "You're a smart kid, so I think you're capable of understanding it. And aren't you the one who wants to be treated as an adult?"

Jim frowned. He certainly wasn't suicidal, but he could understand Lisa's concern. He figured that now wasn't the best time to protest and point out that when it came down to it, his life was more disposable than someone like Kevin's. Then she would probably want him to explain why, and he didn't intend on ever telling anyone the full story of Tarsus. Bones was the only one he trusted enough to know all of it, and no matter how non-judgemental Bones had been, Jim wasn't going to risk it with anyone else.

He slumped down in his seat. Therapy sounded like it would be a drag, but if there were no other options, then what could he do about it? "I hope you find me someone good," he grumbled.

They were both well aware of the way he didn't protest Lisa's assessment of him, and it seemed to hang over Jim like one of those cartoon anvils that always fell out of the sky and conked people in the head. He cleared his throat, hoping to move onto more productive, and pleasant, conversation topics. Lisa beat him to it, probably sensing the awkwardness in the air. "Since you're a ward of the state now, there are a few benefits that you probably haven't had time to consider yet. You're smart enough to get into any college you want, and now, as long as you attend a state school, you won't have to worry about paying off loans. Though I am confident that you could get yourself enough scholarships to be completely covered anyways. And we can still help with housing, once you're eighteen. And hey, now you can get into amusement parks for free, so there's that too."

Jim arched one eyebrow. "If I'd known about the amusement parks, I'd have gotten my parents arrested years ago." He tilted his head. "So am I considered an orphan now?"

Lisa shook her head. "Your parents are still alive, so no. But because of the situation, you are legally disassociated with them, so their information won't be relevant on things like taxes and contracts and credit."

The two of them chatted for a few more minutes, and then Lisa declared that he was fit to head back to school, and that the laxness towards his attendance would be going away now that he had no excuse to stay at home. She gave him her card, and made him promise that he would call her if he needed anything, no matter what time it was. Then she left after a brief handshake, and Jim stayed sitting where he was.

He wasn't sure how long he'd been sitting there before Emilia walked into the living room and sat down across from him. "So you're staying with us, then? Lisa mentioned it on her way out the door."

"Do you mind?"

She quickly shook her head. "Of course not. You're a good kid, and it's a pleasure to have you here. And because we're known for taking in 'high risk' teens, we generally stick to a rule of one kid at a time, so you don't have to worry about anyone else showing up and being in your space and taking the attention away from you." Jim hadn't even considered that possibility, but he was glad to know it wouldn't happen. Emilia cleared her throat. "So are you excited to go back to school?"

Jim shrugged. "I suppose so. It's less boring than being cooped up here. No offense, or anything." Emilia smiled to show she was unbothered, and Jim wondered about how normal 'high risk' teens acted. Probably not very kindly. "Hey, on the plus side I've heard that women love guys with scars."

Emilia laughed. "It's certainly a look. And if you feel comfortable showing them off, then I'm happy for you."

"I'm attractive enough that I don't have to worry about my scars detracting anything," he assured her. The only reason he'd been more careful in the past was because he hadn't wanted to reveal Frank's true nature to anyone, but now that wasn't an issue. And if there were two things in life that Jim was sure about, they were that he was smart, and he looked good. "Though if I'm heading back tomorrow, I should probably get started on my homework. I have a lot of work to backlog."

As he stood up and stretched, Emilia stood as well, picking up Lisa's discarded mug so that she could wash it out. "Just don't overwork yourself. Take a break if you need one, okay? I'll let you know when dinner is ready, but that won't be for a few hours, so you can go grab a snack from the kitchen if you need one."

It was hard to tell whether or not Emilia fell into the category of trying too hard. Though he couldn't deny that there was something nice about being told he had access to food whenever he wanted it. "When I came here, did you guys get my full file? With all the new additions and everything?"

Emilia only hesitated for a moment before nodding. "You mean do we know that you were in Tarsus? Yes. There aren't many details, only the incident report from the people who showed up to rescue you and the others. But everyone's heard the stories about the horrors of Tarsus. I just want you to know that you can feel safe here, okay? And if you ever want to talk, me and Carmen are both good listeners, but you don't have to tell us anything that you don't feel comfortable sharing."

"Thanks. If we're being honest here, I'm probably not going to tell you guys about any of that stuff, but I appreciate the offer."

"It will always be on the table," Emilia said with a small shrug.

Jim shot her a quick smile, and then headed back upstairs to the room he was staying in. It didn't really feel like it was his, since the walls were bare and everything in the room was in soft, neutral colors. Well, if he had to stay here for the next couple of months, maybe he'd buy a poster to hang up. He didn't even care what it would be of, just as long as it made the space feel a little bit less depressingly empty.

Once he settled down and got started on his homework, he got into the 'zone' and was able to get a lot of it done. Even though he'd missed more classes than most people did in their entire school careers, he still didn't have much trouble with any of the work. And the few things he came across that were unfamiliar were easy enough to search for online so that he could teach himself how to get it done. He was still very grateful that this room had a computer in it that he could use. He'd been told from the start that Emilia and Carmen could look at his browser history, but that they would only do that if specific keywords were pinged. He'd tested it out on the first day he'd been here by googling words like 'knives', 'guns', 'injuries', etc. They hadn't even been bothered when he explained that he was just figuring out his boundaries.

Jim was slightly surprised to get through the entire stack of worksheets, because there was nothing from Spock anywhere in it. He would have expected math to be the subject with the most amount of work, maybe only tied with English. And Spock wasn't prone to giving out special exceptions.

Then again, they had both been in a traumatic situation together. Wasn't that supposed to be the most efficient way for people to bond, or something like that? He would google it, but decided that he didn't want to. It would be easy enough to explain away, but it felt a bit too personal for his temporary guardians to see it at all. Maybe he'd borrow Bones' phone at some point to look it up.

By the time Emilia knocked on the door to let him know that dinner was ready, Jim had finished with pretty much everything, and only had a few papers left to write. He'd been given extensions for all of the work, so he wasn't worried about not having them done already.

He went downstairs, and Carmen politely asked him to set the table as she finished up at the stove. So far, Jim had noticed that everyday held the same pattern. Carmen would go to work- though Jim hadn't yet asked what she actually did- while Emilia stayed home. Then when Carmen got home, the two of them cooked dinner together. Jim wondered if Emilia would go to work once Jim started school again, or if she was just a stay-at-home person.

The food was good, as always. Jim was used to home cooked meals being a real treat, usually when Bones' dad wasn't feeling lazy enough to get take out or microwave dinners. David was a good cook, bt he was usually feeling lazy. And Winona and Frank certainly hadn't been going out of their way to make meals. So it was weird to get at least one cooked meal a day that wasn't cafeteria food, and both women made sure that he ate breakfast in the morning.

The wives exchanged small talk throughout the meal, and then Jim helped wash the dishes before excusing himself back to his room to keep working. He could practically feel the eyes on him as he packaged up and put away the leftovers, and wondered which of them was going to speak first.

It ended up being Carmen, and she cleared her throat softly. "Would you like any dessert, Jim? I ended up splurging and buying a cherry pie on my way home. It's Emilia's favorite."

Jim shook his head. "No thanks." He was already full, bordering on uncomfortably so because he hated to leave anything on his plate and these ladies liked putting a lot of food down. He wasn't sure why the question had given Carmen so much hesitation. He might be a genius, but he still didn't understand adults most of the time. He wondered if turning eighteen would give him some magical insight, or if it would always just be some big mystery to him.

He headed to his room to keep working on the papers he had due, but ended up quitting early because he couldn't focus on them. He was excited to see Bones in school tomorrow, and hoped that his best friend wouldn't be too disappointed in him. He also found himself weirdly eager to see Spock again. Maybe that bonding trauma stuff wasn't just a bunch of bull.


	23. Chapter 23

The principal pulled Spock into her office, and at first, he thought that he was in trouble for taking so much time off when he was still a new teacher, but instead, it was so that she could make sure that she was okay. "I know that legally we can't take away sick days from Vulcan employees, but I must admit that I've never actually seen any Vulcans use them. I thought that you guys couldn't get sick? So I was pretty worried to see you being absent for so long."

Would it be easier to tell the truth and admit that he'd needed to watch over and protect a stubborn student? Or lie and say that some Vulcans did get sick? Or… or maybe there was a different truth he could share with her. It wouldn't quite answer her question or concern, but it would most likely get her off of his back. "I have found myself questioning my Vulcan nature," he told her in a quiet voice. "It has been quite a taxing process."

The principal's eyes widened, and she leaned forward. "Oh, Spock, I had no idea. I can only imagine what you're going through right now. To be honest, I'm not even sure if I should be saying 'I'm sorry' or 'congratulations'."

Spock wasn't quite sure what the appropriate action would be there, either. Was there some specific reaction that could be given to what he'd just said? Was there a greeting card that said 'sorry you're thinking of changing the way that you've viewed the world for your entire life'? "I am not sure of the answer to that."

The principal just stared at him for a moment before nodding once. "Well, you can go to your classroom now. You know your students have all missed you. And if you ever need to talk, then I'm here."

Spock nodded gratefully, and then quickly made his way to the classroom. He wasn't quite sure that he believed that his students had missed him, considering how much he'd heard of their dislike of Vulcans in general. There were just a couple of Vulcans between all of his classes. He wondered if they would be disappointed by his decisions. Well, no, probably not. Vulcans didn't feel disappointment, right?

Normally the students lounged about in the hallways between classes for as long as they possibly thought that they could get away with, so Spock was slightly surprised to walk into the room and see that it was already full. "Thank goodness we don't have to deal with that sub anymore!" Uhura called out suddenly.

Spock dipped his head down once in acknowledgement of her words, and then found his eyes heading over to a different section of the room. There was McCoy, just like always, and Jim was sitting next to him. The two had their heads tilted together, and they were speaking softly enough that they couldn't be heard over the rest of the class chatter.

Spock got to the front of the room, and felt uncharacteristically nervous. Maybe he should have taken a few more days off from work. But then what would he have done besides lie around at home? He could talk to I-Chaya, but she had that funny habit of never actually saying anything in return. And he knew that Sybok was still crashing on Spock's couch, but suddenly the idea of speaking with his brother seemed so insane. It had been easy enough when he'd first returned home, Jim's blood still on his jacket, but that moment of vulnerability was over, and now he felt like sharing his 'feelings' would not end well for him.

The students were all staring up at him, entirely oblivious to his internal struggles. As they should be. He was the teacher here, and it was his job to worry about his students, not the other way around. Though 'worry' seemed like such an alien idea. How was he supposed to deal with all of these new emotions? And were they even really new? Why did all of this have to be so complicated?

But Spock was dedicated to his job of teaching math to a bunch of students who mostly didn't care and/or didn't appreciate the subject at all, so he asked someone to catch him up on what the sub had done with them, and then he jumped back into the teaching. Nothing in the room had changed at all since the last time he was here, but it felt like he was somewhere entirely different. It was thoroughly bizarre, to say the least.

At the end of the day, Spock started packing up so that he could head home. Normally he would wait an hour, since technically that's what all the teachers at this school were required to do everyday except for Friday, but he was sure that the principal would be understanding of the situation.

He turned around after locking the classroom door, and almost bumped right into Jim, who was standing behind him, a sheepish look on his face. "Hey, I uh, didn't mean to bother you if you're heading out. I just thought… ah, nevermind."

The teen was clearly about to leave, and something in Spock told him that he should at least talk to Jim a little bit before parting ways for the day. They hadn't seen each other at all since Spock had been sent home from the police station. And even though Spock just wanted to leave already, he also felt like there were some things that needed to be said. "It's fine, I do not have any immediate engagements." For a moment he considered offering Jim a ride elsewhere, but then realized that that would probably be considered inappropriate, so he just unlocked the classroom door and led Jim inside.

They walked over to Spock's desk, and then both just stood next to it, slightly awkward. Did awkward count as an emotion? It seemed like a good question to ask Jim, who may as well be an expert at feelings, but then decided against it. It's not like Jim was an expert at dealing with his feelings in healthy ways, and besides, he figured that there were more important things to talk about.

Jim reached up to grab at the straps of his backpack, and shifted on his feet. "Honestly, everything happened in such a blur that night, I can't remember whether I ever got the chance to thank you or not. You know, most teachers say that they care about their students, but I don't think that most of them would put themselves anywhere near a bullet for those students. And while even just being there would be dangerous, you could have recorded the entire thing for evidence without stepping in and nobody would have blamed you for it."

"You are a bright young man, Jim. Were you to die in a tragic incident, it would bring down the total GPA of the entire class, and it would not look good for me, being my first year of teaching and all."

Jim snorted. "Right. Well, whatever reason you had for stepping in, thank you. I probably would have died without you there."

Spock nodded, and he knew that he could have just left it there, and Jim would go back to wherever he was staying right now, but he was pretty sure that if he didn't get a few things off of his chest, he would regret it. "I am no longer sure what it means to be Vulcan." Jim furrowed his eyebrows in confusion, but didn't say anything, which Spock greatly appreciated. "I blame you for this matter. Your actions frightened me on your behalf, and not just the other night at the play, but other things before that as well. Like how you let yourself stay in a dangerous situation even when there were people who wanted to help remove you from that. It is your fault that I felt fear and worry and all manner of other things that a Vulcan would have no right to be feeling." He paused to take a deep breath in, and then slowly let it out. "I know that it is entirely irrational to blame you for this, and yet I find that I cannot take any other course of action. Is this what it means to not be Vulcan?"

Jim was staring at him, and Spock knew that he probably sounded like he was just rambling on like a crazy person. "I'm sorry I made you… feel things? But I don't think that it's being Vulcan or not Vulcan. I know it's weird to hear, but I do believe that Vulcans feel things too, they're just better at smooshing it all down." He hesitated for a moment before continuing in a gentle voice, as if he were afraid of hurting Spock's feelings of all things. "Have you ever stopped to think about why Vulcans are the way that they are? I mean, I know that they'd been around for as long as there's been recorded human history, but it seems like no one's ever bothered to actually figure out why they made the choices that they did. But I have a theory. Absolutely no evidence to support it, and I'm not even close to an expert in anthropology, so it's really just a non-educated guess. But it actually seems like at least a slight reasonable idea.

"What do Vulcans get out of being the way that they are? What's the benefit to it? Well, everyone knows the answer to that one. If they don't have any feelings, then they can't get hurt, in either sense of the word. Do you know what the word is for that? It's fear, Spock. Maybe they were afraid of dying, or maybe they were afraid of a skinned knee, or maybe they were afraid of heartbreak, but no matter how you look at it, I just can't think of any other reason that people would want to get rid of their emotions." Then Jim's face went red, and he looked down at his feet. "Sorry, I think I just kinda insulted your entire culture, and that's not really what I meant to do."

Spock blinked a couple of times, and then tilted his head to the side. "I had never thought of it that way before." In fact, he was pretty sure that very few people had, or at least not out loud where everyone would be able to hear them. He wondered what his father would think of Jim's theory. He could already guess what his mother would think. "I am not offended, Jim, I promise." He let out a soft chuckle, slightly startling himself with the noise that sounded so foreign coming from his mouth. "You and my brother would probably get along well."

Jim's eyes widened. "You have a brother? Sorry, I don't know why I assumed that I know everything about your personal life when we really barely even know each other. Though they do say that people bond together over traumatic situations, so there's that."

They both just stood there for a few seconds before Spock decided that he had more to say. "I don't think that you're the root cause of the fact that I am beginning to feel things. Though I cannot deny that you are the direct cause of at least some of them. I got a papercut because of you."

He wasn't sure what kind of reaction he would have expected to that, but it probably wasn't a big grin on Jim's face. "A papercut? Is that the first physical injury you've ever had?"

Spock started to nod, but then paused. His memory was usually pretty good, but even he couldn't have a perfect recall of when he'd been a young child. But now that he thought about it, there might have been something to it. "I am not sure." He would have to ask his mother about it at some point. "Children are raised to be Vulcan, they are not born that way, so it is possible that I experienced physical pain before my cognitive functions were advanced enough to understand being Vulcan."

"Sounds to me like your cognitive functions still aren't advanced enough to have figured it out," Jim said in a light voice. "But that's alright. There's nothing that says you've got to have your entire life and personality figured out by the time you're… however old you are."

Spock nodded. "That is true technically, though of course there are societal expectations that seem as though they are unavoidable." Then he shook his head. "This is not where I had intended for a conversation to end up. I simply wanted to inform you that you created certain feelings in me, and that I would strongly encourage you to not do such things again. Being so frightened for another person was unpleasant."

Jim gave Spock a long look, and Spock had to resist the urge to squirm. He was a grown man, and a teacher, and he had no reason to find Jim's searching gaze so discomforting. "I'm sure that it sucks to feel that way, and I honestly wasn't trying to scare you or anything." The tone of his voice made it pretty obvious that he wanted to say more, and Spock gave him an encouraging nod to continue. Jim took a deep breath in, and then slowly let it out. "I'm not saying that you're lying or anything, but maybe it's all still new enough to you that you haven't quite figured out how it all works? I don't know, it's just that you keep bringing up feeling afraid, and I can't help but wonder if fear for another person would really stick with you this much?"

Spock frowned. "What are you trying to get at?"

Jim shrugged. "Nothing. Just that maybe, maybe you were a bit afraid for me, but also, there was a crazy person holding a gun right in front of you, and shooting off at random. Any of those bullets could have hit you. So maybe it's possible that you were at least a little bit scared for yourself, too?"

Spock's frown deepened. He'd been too busy focusing on that image of Lenore holding the gun to James' head that he hadn't even had time to process the potential danger that he'd been in as well. "I suppose that it is possible," he conceded. "Would it really make any difference, though, who that fear was mostly aimed at?"

Jim shrugged again. "I'm not some kind of psychologist who can answer all your problems. Though now that I think about it, finding someone like that to talk to might actually be a good idea for you. But anyways, I think that it might matter, at least a little bit. Vulcans are secure in the knowledge that they can't get hurt, right? Which means that most of them probably don't have any self-preservation instincts because they don't need them. But if you're scared for yourself, it means that you acknowledge the fact that you are now just a mere mortal like the rest of us." Jim suddenly reached into his pocket, a slightly guilty look on his face. "Shit. I kinda forgot that I told Bones I would be catching a ride with him, and he's probably freaking out at least a little bit right now. I've gotta go, Spock, but I'm glad that we got this chance to talk." He waved over his shoulder as he hurried off.

Well then. Spock slowly shuffled out of the classroom, turning the lights off and locking the door out of habit, and then heading out to the parking lot. Jim had given him a surprisingly large amount to think about, and Spock found that he was actually relieved to know that Sybok was still around, because he was pretty sure that his brother would have an easier time deciphering Jim's words than Spock ever could. Even if some parts of that conversation hadn't made much sense, he was still glad that he'd gotten the chance to talk with Jim a bit about what had happened. He figured that they might need to talk more in the future, but for now, he felt pretty satisfied.


	24. Chapter 24

Jim shot Bones a guilty look as he slid into the passenger seat of the truck. "Sorry, sorry, I-"

Bones reached over to punch Jim in the arm, and Jim reached up to rub at it with some exaggeration. "Ow, what the hell, Bones?"

Bones crossed his arms over his chest and glared at Jim. "Do you even have to ask? After everything that's happened, you couldn't even shoot me a quick text to say that you'd be late? I was about ready to storm back into the school and interrogate everyone I came across."

Jim reached into his pocket to touch the cellphone resting in there. It had been a gift from Emilia and Carmen, and it was the first time Jim had ever had a phone of his own. He still felt so weird about it, like any second someone was going to snatch it out of his hands and yell at him for trying to use it. And he wasn't used to having a way of contacting people whenever he felt like it. But that seemed like too much to explain, so he just shrugged and offered a sheepish grin. "You're right, I'm sorry. Won't happen again, I promise."

The expression on Bones' face softened, and then he slowly leaned over to pull Jim into a hug. It only lasted for a couple of seconds, and then Bones settled back into his seat. "You idiot," he said fondly. "I don't know what you're thinking about right now, but I know that you're thinking about it too hard." He started the engine, and off they went.

When they went past the turn to Jim's temporary home, he poked Bones in the shoulder. "Bones, literally never become a navigator. Well, actually, I guess it would be okay, if you accidentally flew a plane into like a cloud, or something, but in most cases, I would advise against-"

Jim had continued to poke Bones in the arm the entire time he was talking, and Bones reached up to swat his hand aside. "We're going to my place. Lizzie and Dad have both been all over my case to bring you around after everything they've seen in the news."

Jim smiled as he leaned back into his own seat, ignoring the way that the seat belt had dug into his shoulder uncomfortably. He turned to look out the window so that Bones wouldn't be able to tell him just how goofy he looked. Jim had always liked the entire McCoy family, and it was always nice to get a small reminder that they liked him too. Though he wasn't sure that they would feel the same given more knowledge about his history, but he never planned on sharing such a thing with them, and he trusted Bones to not go blabbing to his family, even if had most likely been the person to tell Spock.

After a couple of minutes, Bones cleared his throat. "So what was so important at school that it was worth giving me a heart attack over?"

"I needed to talk to Spock. Last minute apologies and gratitudes."

"Hm. I guess he did save your dumbass from a world of trouble, huh. Does this mean that I've actually got to thank the cold-blooded bastard for something?"

Jim thought of the conversation he'd had with Spock, and shrugged. "I don't think he's cold-blooded."

The way that Bones rolled his eyes seemed quite evident in his voice. "Obviously I don't actually think that he's…" then he trailed off as he glanced at Jim for just a moment before looking back at the road. "Wait, what do you mean by that?"

Jim shrugged. He wasn't sure if it was fair to be talking about what Spock had told him, since it felt like the type of thing that had been said in the strictest confidence, even if that had never been specified out loud. "He saved me when he didn't have to. And not just from Lenore 'Bathshit' Karidian."

As he took a moment to gather his thoughts, Bones began snickering rather loudly, and Jim looked at him with one eyebrow raised, wondering what the hell was so funny. Then the snickering turned into loud guffaws of laughter. "Did you just-" Bones had to pause for a moment to take in a deep, wheezy breath. "Did you just say 'bathshit'? Like as in shit from a bath?"

Jim blinked a couple of times. "No." Then he slumped back in his seat. "Oh my god, I did, didn't I?" He gave Bones a pleading look. "Please don't hold this against me. I know you're not as evil as you pretend to be, so please, just this once, for an old pal, do me a solid." He pressed his hands together like he was praying. "Please, Bones, I'm begging you." Bones let out his best evil sounding cackle, and Jim had to snort loudly at the noise. "Seriously? You sound more like a deranged duck than a mad man."

Bones sniffed, clearly offended. "Maybe mad men sound like ducks, you don't know. How many mad men have you…" then he trailed off, and turned to look at Jim with wide eyes. "I didn't mean-"

Jim held up one hand before Bones could pull the car over and fall to his knees to sob from the misery of the idea that he had verbally harmed his best friend. "It's fine, we're just joking around. I'm the same guy that I was a few months ago, okay? So please don't go around thinking that there's anything you can't say to me just because you know more about me. It's going to make me feel like you're treating me like a glass doll instead of a best friend."

Bones nodded once, though he still looked rather uncertain. His eyes kept flicking back and forth between Jim and the road, and it was probably a good thing that there weren't very many people on the road at the moment, because Jim would hate to be the indirect cause of an accident. "Still, I'm sorry. I know you're not a glass doll, Jim. I just hope that you know that it's exactly because I am your best friend that I want to avoid doing anything that would harm you or bring up harmful memories."

Jim reached over to touch Bones' shoulder. "I know that, I promise."

The rest of the drive to the McCoy household passed in silence, and then both teens headed inside the house. There was the smell of something fried coming from the kitchen, and Jim followed his nose and the growls of his stomach. He poked his head into the kitchen, and saw David standing over the stove while Eliza was standing on a chair next to the table. There was flour everywhere, in the room and all over the little girl, but she didn't seem upset by it.

As soon as Jim cleared his throat to announce his presence, Eliza looked up. A grin instantly appeared on her face, and Jim couldn't deny that he enjoyed feeling so wanted here. She hopped down off of the chair she was on, and rushed over to him, leaving behind a trail of floury footprints behind her. Then she leapt into a hug with Jim, smearing flour all over him, but he didn't care. "Jimmy! You haven't been here in so long I thought ya died!"

Jim squeezed her a bit tighter than necessary, but she doesn't complain. "Sorry Lizzie. I know I should have come by sooner but I've been pretty busy lately. And hey, look at that! Lizzie rhymes with busy!"

She was a smart enough kid to know that Jim was intentionally changing the subject and lightening the mood, but she was also smart enough to know that Jim wouldn't do such a thing without a good reason. "Okay. Just make sure to come by more often in the future."

Jim nodded. "Sure thing, I promise." Then he kissed the top of Eliza's head. Which he immediately realized was a bad idea as he inhaled some rather powdery flour, and began coughing until David handed him a glass of cold water to chug down. He set the glass down in the sink once it was empty, and then gave David a small smile. "Hey."

The man grinned. "We're making homemade fried chicken. You staying for dinner?"

Jim laughed. "As if I could possibly turn that down!" After a few more minutes of small talk, Jim excused himself to head upstairs, where Bones was already lounging on his bed.

Bones glanced up as Jim entered the room. "Don't forget to call your guardians if you haven't already."

Jim nodded. "Right, thanks!" He would have completely forgotten if he didn't have Bones to remind him. He stepped back out into the hallway and pulled out his phone. Right now, there were only four numbers in his contacts list- Bones, Lisa, Emilia, and Carmen. He called Carmen, since her name came before Eliza's on the contact list. It wasn't until he got her voicemail that he remembered she would still be at work and wouldn't be able to answer the call. So he left a message saying that he would be having dinner at Bones', but promised that he would still get his homework done and be back at the house before it got too late out. Then he hung up and went back into Bones' room.

They worked on homework together for a little while, with Bones swearing out loud about how unfair it was that Jim could have missed so much school and still understand their assignments better than he did. It was lucky for him that Jim was more than happy to help him figure out the things he didn't already understand. But overall, Bones was a bright guy, and even if it didn't all come to him as naturally as it did Jim, that didn't mean he wasn't a highly intelligent person.

They made good progress in their assignments, and then went downstairs for dinner. Eliza was very pleased to be able to show off her cooking skills, even if it had been her dad who'd done most of the actual cooking. After they finished eating, Jim helped clean everything up, including the remaining flour mess that Eliza had left behind, and then packed up his things so that Bones could take him home.

Once they were in front of Jim's current house, Bones turned off the engine, leaving them sitting in the dark in sudden silence. Then Bones suddenly unbuckled his seatbelt so that he had enough room to pull Jim into a hug. "It was good to see you again, and I'm glad that you're somewhere safe right now. If you need anything, just call or text, okay? Since I plan on being a doctor and all, it wouldn't look good for me if anyone found out that I couldn't even keep one stubborn idiot alive."

"Love you too, Bones," Jim said with a laugh. "See you tomorrow!" Then he hopped out of the truck and headed up to the front door. He knew that Bones wouldn't actually drive away until the door was open and Jim was stepping inside, so he pulled his key out and moved quickly so that Bones could get out of there sooner rather than later.

After closing and locking the front door behind him, Jim heard Eliza call out from the living room. "Jim? Would you mind coming in here for a minute?"

Jim wasn't sure what she'd want to talk about, but he didn't see any point in ignoring her, so he readjusted his backpack where it was slung over one shoulder, and then followed the sound of chatting voices to the living room. Eliza and Carmen were both sitting on the couch together, and Jim gave them a curious look. "What's up?"

Carmen frowned, and Jim could already feel that he was going to be in trouble for something, though he wasn't actually sure what he'd done wrong. "Look, I know that you're used to a certain level of independence. When you lived in a household with guardians who did not assign any curfew or house rules, it can be difficult to adjust to something new. But I'd like to think that we're not asking too much of you. Neither of us want to micromanage your life, but it is important to both of us that we know where you are so that we can know that you are safe. It's part of why we thought that it would be a good idea to get you a phone."

Jim raised one eyebrow. "But you did know where I was. I left a message for you. Didn't you get it?"

"Yes, I did get it," Carmen told him. She never once raised her voice, which helped to keep the conversation calm and level. "But I think that we would have both appreciated it a lot more if you had talked with us in person about where you were planning on going after school. At the very least, I'd like you to respond to my texts when I send them."

Jim didn't remember getting any texts from her. He pulled his phone out and pressed the home button, but the screen remained blank, and he put it back into his pocket. "Sorry about that. I guess I'm still not used to having one, so I didn't remember to charge it last night and it ended up dying."

Eliza reached out to rest her hand on her wife's leg, and then turned to look up at Jim. She cleared her throat once. "I know that this is a difficult period of adjustment for you. But considering the circumstances that led you here, I'm sure that you can understand our concern when we don't find you where we were expecting, and then when you don't answer texts or calls on top of that. All we ask is that in the future, you do your best to keep communication open and clear between us, okay?"

Jim nodded, feeling slightly guilty for having upset the people who were giving him a house and food and a bunch of other things that he'd never been able to rely on before. "I'm sorry. I understand. So I guess it would make sense to tell you that there's a lot of days where I end up going over Bones' house after school. Is that okay?"

"Of course it is. We don't want to stop you from doing normal things, like spending time with your friends, especially one who was there for you through such a difficult time. But maybe you could figure out how to make these visits less spontaneous? If you let me know in the morning whether you're coming back here or not, it would make us both feel a lot better."

Jim nodded again, relieved at such a simple solution. He'd been afraid for a moment that they would tell him he wasn't allowed to see Bones anymore. If that ever happened, he would definitely call Lisa and tell her that this place was a bad fit. But so far, it seemed pretty nice here, and he would almost say that he liked it, except for the fact that he would never say that out loud. There was always too much risk of something happening to ruin anything that he enjoyed, so he planned on taking advantage of the kindness of this place for as long as he could, and then, when the shit ended up inevitably hitting the fan, he would hopefully already be old enough to be far away from this town.


	25. Chapter 25

It wasn't until three days after his conversation with Jim that Spock got the chance to speak with Sybok again. While his brother left his meager supply of personal belongings on the couch in Spock's apartment, he went out for most of the day everyday, doing something that Spock hadn't quite gotten a clear answer on yet.

It was the weekend, though, which meant that Spock could wake up early enough to catch up with his brother without having to worry about rushing off to school. He made himself some coffee, and then waited patiently for Sybok to rise.

When his brother did get up, he wandered into the kitchen, looking remarkably sleepy, and therefore vulnerable. It was still something Spock was not used to seeing for anyone, but especially not anyone raised Vulcan. Even his mother had stricter control of herself, and Spock couldn't remember her ever looking as… soft as Sybok did in that moment.

He handed his brother a mug of coffee, and Sybok gratefully accepted it, cradling it in his hands like it was something absolutely precious to him. He took a sip, and let out an exaggerated hum of delight. "I don't know where you buy this stuff, but it's definitely the best coffee I've had in years."

Spock shrugged. "It is adequate."

Sybok snorted. "You can't fool me, man. No Vulcan would be able to justify spending more money on something like coffee when cheaper stuff would be just as effective at providing caffeine and the other benefits that coffee brings. You buy it 'cause you love it too much to live without it, huh?"

Spock took another sip from his own mug in lieu of answering. "I was wondering when you planned to reveal to me your reasons for having come to find me. I have been curious about your intentions, but you've yet to actually explain them to me."

Sybok sighed, and chugged down the rest of his drink, and then set the mug down in the sink before beckoning for Spock to follow him into the living room. He moved aside the blanket he'd been using so that they could both settle down on the couch, and after a minute, I-Chaya leapt up and crawled onto Spock's lap. He pet her absent-mindedly as he looked at his brother, waiting for answers.

Sybok leaned back against the arm of the couch. "I guess in a way you should already know what I want. You must know as well as anyone why I was banished from the Vulcan communities."

"Because you attempted to abolish the Vulcan council," Spock answered easily.

Sybok nodded. "Yes. They consider me to be a radical, because I believe that the Vulcan way is wrong. They live for far longer than is natural, and yet do absolutely nothing to try and help any other people around them. They repress emotions to an unhealthy degree, and I think that the only way to live is with emotion. And if one does want to be Vulcan, it should be a choice, not something forced upon them from birth so that they know nothing else."

Spock offered a small smile. "When I spoke to Jim the other day, he told me that he believes Vulcans perhaps feel things even more strongly than non-Vulcans do. His theory is that Vulcans began to be what they are because they were afraid of pain, and that fear is one of the strongest emotions a person can feel."

"Ah, I think I like your Jim, even if I haven't met him yet." Then he let out a soft sigh. "Anyways, the point is that I've basically made it my mission in life to change the Vulcan way. I won't force an integration that they have no interest in, but I will insist on certain things changing. I'm not foolish enough to believe that I could ever accomplish such a great task on my own, but in my time since my exile, I have worked to gain allies and support for my cause. Perhaps it was rather presumptuous of me, but when I learned that you had left the community to take a job in a predominantly non-Vulcan area, I thought that it might be what led you to opening your eyes on certain matters. I had never thought that it would be through such dramatic means, or I promise you I would have come much sooner. I never wanted to see you get so hurt, because you are my brother. Perhaps you'll think me selfish for this, but now that you have been hurt, I want to use that to my advantage. I want to win you over to my side, and earn your support in the fight ahead."

Spock furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. "What do you possibly think that I could do to help? I already have a reputation for being 'too Vulcan for the Vulcans', so I doubt that your current supporters would approve of me at all. And if you're hoping for something as drastic as Father's sympathies, I can assure you that you will be unable to gain them through any means, including me."

Sybok shook his head. "Don't misunderstand. You hold no valuable connections that I could utilize. That is not why I want your help. I want you on my side to be you. You are a highly intelligent man, and you have always been good at seeing solutions that I overlooked. And my followers will accept you amongst them because they know how important you are to me, and to our future. If you were 'too Vulcan for the Vulcans', then the fact that you have changed will be seen as solid proof that being Vulcan is not inevitable for anyone, regardless of the circumstances of their birth."

It was strange to think that Sybok would go through so much trouble to seek out Spock because he actually believed that it would be useful to work together for his revolution. "What could I actually do to help though?" he asked doubtfully.

"Well…" Sybok trailed off, and bit his lip nervously. "You'd probably have to leave your job," he admitted. "We're always on the move to find more people, and once others hear of your allegiance with my cause, they might not be as happy about supporting you anymore."

Spock frowned. "Like you said, I work in a predominantly non-Vulcan school. I would think that the people there would be perfectly content with the idea of converting more Vulcans away from what they were raised to know."

"Maybe so, but it's not just your coworkers I'm talking about. I was exiled from the Vulcan community, Spock. Do you realize what that means? I can visit Father on rare occasion, though I basically have to stay in his house the entire time to avoid seeing how much the other Vulcans don't like me. And even after I left home the first time, the unofficial aspects of my punishment weren't over. I was chased and threatened, and attacked in such vicious ways that you wouldn't think any Vulcan would be capable of it. I'm not going to lie to you Spock. Throwing your lot in with me is dangerous. There are a lot of people opposed to my ideas, even among non-Vulcans."

"Why would non-Vulcans disapprove?"

Sybok sighed, and tipped his head back to stare up at the ceiling. "Many of them see Vulcans as a way of making themselves feel better. Knowing that Vulcans exist makes them feel better about their own lives, because they see it as an inferior way of living. They often pity Vulcans for their lack of emotion, and act as though they are lucky to not be Vulcans. Though it is never something that they would admit out loud, and in some cases they probably aren't even consciously aware of it, people feel like they need Vulcans in the world. And there is also the added benefit of giving them the idea that if they ever reach rock bottom, feeling as low down as they could possibly get, they will always have the option of becoming Vulcan and making it all go away."

They were both silent for a minute until Spock thought of something to say. "Did you you ever read that case study about the dying convert?" Sybok shook his head, looking curious, so Spock explained. "There was a non-Vulcan man who found out that he had stage three lung cancer that had somehow not been caught on any tests or scans sooner. The doctors gave him an estimate of a year to live. The man was quite disturbed by the news, understandably, and he went through his treatments with no hope that they would actually help. Eventually, he went to a nearby Vulcan town, and he began the process of converting. Of course, it is typically a long term process, and he was in a particularly emotionally volatile state to begin with.

"Eight months after his diagnosis, one of his lungs collapsed and he was rushed to the hospital. Nobody thought he was going to live for very long after that. The man called his Vulcan contacts to come and spend his final days in the hospital with him. He said that he was tired of feeling afraid, and wanted them to help him stop.

"Two weeks later, the doctors ran some more tests and found that the cancer had stopped spreading. The weaker lung had not magically repaired itself, but had begun to heal, which was already more than anyone expected. The man had been on his deathbed, but he managed to finish becoming a Vulcan."

Sybok laughed. "Become Vulcan for the cool factor, stay for the free health insurance. What better deal are you going to find in America?"

Spock blinked a few times. "Oh. I'm probably going to have to buy some health insurance, now that I think about it."

Sybok shrugged. "Well, you don't have to. I was too big of a face in the news at the time, but I know others who just chose to never report their conversions, and they just do their best to make sure they don't get hurt at all. Though it can be rather difficult sometimes, I suppose, when you're used to being able to handle all kinds of dangerous situations without any risk to your health."

"I wouldn't want to risk it."

Sybok laughed again. "Even now, you're going to play the goodie two shoes?"

Spock shrugged. "Someone in this family has to, and it certainly does not seem as though it will be you."

"Hey, Spock, you should know, even if you decide you don't want to join me, I'm still going to love you. Nothing's going to stop you from being my brother, man. I just don't want you to feel as though it's the only way for us to keep up with this thing where we actually act like siblings. I mean, we'll see each other a lot less, since I have to head back out with the others soon, but we'll make it work, I promise. And you don't have to give me any solid answer right now. I don't need to hit the road for another two weeks or so."

Spock hesitated for a moment, and then reached out to pat his brother's shoulder. "I am sorry, Sybok, but I cannot go with you. I am just beginning to build a life here for myself, and I don't think that I have it in me to abandon it so easily to start over somewhere else. Living on the road is not for me. And besides that, there are people here who need me."

There was an understanding smile on Sybok's face, which almost made Spock feel even more guilty about having to reject his brother. "Jim?"

"Among others," Spock admitted. "I have other students as well, you know. And I-Chaya would not be happy having to be so thoroughly contained in order to keep her from running off in the middle of a caravan." He pet the cat's head, and she flicked her tail out to smack gently against Sybok's arm. "I truly am sorry that I cannot be what you wish of me. If there is anything I can do to help from a distance, know that I will."

Sybok shrugged. "It was always a long shot. To be honest, even if I'd known with one-hundred percent certainty that you would turn me down, I still would have come here. I should not have waited so long to try and find you. You were always so important to me when we were children, and yet I feel as though I abandoned you when I left for the sake of my mission."

"I never felt abandoned," Spock assured him. "I knew that you had more important things that took priority over your younger brother. Family cannot, and should not, always come first."

"Even still, I'm sorry. I should have at least made some attempt to see you sooner. But I was so bitter with Father for not trying to fight in my defense that I did not want to return home, and that's the only place where you could be found until so very recently."

That was surprising. Not that Sybok hadn't wanted to go home, because Spock couldn't blame him for that. Returning to the only Vulcan place he was even still allowed to see his family didn't sound like it would be more interesting than continuing on with the revolution that he was planning. No, there was a different part of that statement that took Spock somewhat by surprise. "Father did fight in your defense."

Sybok shook his head. "No, when I asked, he…" he trailed off, a thoughtful look on his face. "He told me that he could not defend someone and risk losing his position in the community unless he felt that they were committed to their argument with everything that they had in them. He never actually said that didn't think I had that commitment, so I guess he never actually said he wouldn't defend me." Sybok let out a slightly bitter chuckle. "See, this is why Vulcans suck. Nothing can ever just be easy with them, and I don't understand why."

Spock couldn't help it; he found himself laughing out loud at the look on Sybok's face. "So you choose to rebuke Vulcans because they are too clever for you to figure out what they are saying?"

"No!" Sybok protested loudly, but then he started laughing as well. I-Chaya suddenly leapt away from Spock, and landed on his brother's lap instead, where she gently headbutted him in the arm until he began to pet her. "I can see why you'd want to stay here for her. She seems like a good cat."

"She is." Now probably wasn't the right time to try and explain how I-Chaya seemed to be far more than the average cat at times, all things considered. She was the most polite pet he'd ever seen before, for one thing. And there was the fact that the only time she'd ever even tried to run away was when she wound up with Jim and had given Spock a chance to try and help the teen, at least a little bit.

After a few minutes of silence, Sybok's stomach growled loudly, and he shot Spock a sheepish grin. "I don't suppose you're any good at cooking? I was never sure of whether that counted as a passionate skill that requires emotions, or not."

Spock rolled his eyes. "If you're willing to drag your lazy ass into the kitchen, you can watch and learn." It was nice to know that there was at least one thing that he was better at than his brother, especially now that he knew 'being Vulcan' needed to be crossed off of that list.


	26. Chapter 26

As Jim waited in line, he could feel the way that his palms were sweating, and he really hoped that the principal wouldn't notice when it was Jim's turn to shake her hand. He wasn't even really sure why he felt so nervous about this, except that maybe he feared he would reach the center of the stage, and then suddenly everyone would start laughing and tell him that it had all been a joke. How could someone with his attendance record be allowed to graduate?

But he reached the center with no problems, even managing to avoid tripping over the hem of his tacky green gown, which was just a bit too long on him because he hadn't been around when all the last minute tailoring had been done. But he was proud of it all the same, as it signified that he was done. And he was even more proud of the gold stole that identified him as valedictorian of his class.

There was a determined look on Jim's face as he accepted the rolled up piece of paper in one hand, and shook the principal's hand with the other. Then he turned to face the crowd, hating the way that all the faces seemed to blend together in such a large crowd. He hadn't even realized that there were this many people in the entire town, let alone who were connected to this year's senior class. Then the principal told him to flip his tassel, which he did with a small smile, before hurrying off of the stage. He hadn't given his speech yet, but that would come after everyone had gotten their diploma.

While the others headed back to their seats, Jim waited at the base of the stage, and eventually Bones was walking down, diploma in hand. They pulled each other into a tight hug, but had no words to exchange over the loud cheers that filled the auditorium. Bones decided to wait with him, and Jim appreciated the silent encouragement.

Then he was finally being called back up, and he tried to make sure that he walked smoothly and carefully, not wanting to be the story of the day because he'd fallen flat on his face and broken his nose. He thanked the principal, and then she stepped aside so that Jim could stand in front of the microphone by himself.

He took a deep breath in, slowly let it out, and then internally winced at the way the noise whistled through the entire room because of the microphone right in front of him. He cleared his throat, and then reached into the pocket of his robe to thumb at the notecards in there. He'd insisted that he wouldn't need them because of his essentially perfect recall, but his guardians had insisted.

Thinking of them made Jim's eyes search through the crowd. Despite his birthday being a month ago, he was still living in their house, waiting for them to kick him out. They hadn't yet, though. At this point, he wondered if maybe they'd gotten just as used to him as he had to them, and that made it more trouble than it was worth to split apart. He'd be gone in the fall anyways, off to university. Both women gave him smiles and thumbs ups, and Jim quickly focused back on his speech, trying not to let himself get distracted again.

"So, here we are. I know that a lot of you already know me, but for those who couldn't keep track of all the names being called a few minutes ago, I'm Jim Kirk. I am valedictorian this year, but that would not be possible without all the amazing teachers of this school who were willing to work with me despite a lot of baggage. So thank you to everyone who helped me reach this point. And also thank you to everyone who thought I'd never get here. Without your negativity, I wouldn't have had anybody to spite by working so hard.

"But today isn't just about me. Today is about all of us. Sixty-seven hard working individuals who have fought to walk up onto this stage in these cheap polyester robes, half of which are going to end up in the dumpster by the end of the day. But even if we throw away the robes we walked in, there is no way to throw away all of our memories of our time in school. And why would we want to?

"Sure, I'd never want to relive any of this if I had the opportunity, but I would never deny that so much of who I am today is built off of my time in school. So much of who we all are. But we also have to make sure that we don't get too caught up in our old memories. We have to keep moving forward.

"All our lives, we have been told what to do and how to do it, and now we are suddenly being thrown out into the real world with agency of our own and a million decisions to make without any help. But don't be frightened of this. Instead, think of it like we are all explorers, heading out into new territory.

"The real world is our final frontier, because none of us will have the same exact experiences as any other adult who has started to figure things out. And no matter where we go, our voyages will be unforgettable to us. So I know that it seems scary to be on our own, to be adults, but I'm going to offer you all just a little bit of help. I'm going to give you a mission to follow, and to think about whenever you find yourself getting stuck. Go out and explore this strange new world. Seek out all the lives and civilizations that you've never seen before, and let yourself learn something from each new experience you have. We will boldly go where no one has gone before, because each of our journeys are our own, but we will never be alone. No matter where we go or what we do there, we will always be able to remember the friends and family we've made along the way. So let's go out there, and let's explore. We live in a world that is far too large and too fascinating to do anything but that. Good luck on your voyages, class of 2019. Congratulations, we did it!"

There was a lot of cheering, and people jumping out of their seats to clap, and Jim grinned, glad that he'd come up with a speech that people enjoyed. Or at least was tolerable enough for them to pretend that they'd enjoyed it. The principal laughed as everyone tossed their caps up into the air, tassels flying all around.

There were a couple more short speeches, and then everyone was set free, to head off to live the rest of their lives. There was a knot in Jim's stomach at the thought of having to actually start taking responsibility and doing things on his own, but then he thought of how much he'd been on his own his entire life, and realized that maybe it wasn't going to be quite as difficult as everyone always made it out to be.

Jim made his way over to the McCoys, all of whom pulled him into a hug, including Bones' grandparents. Eliza kept cheering and telling Jim that she'd never heard a better boring speech before in her life, which had everyone else chuckling, and David gave Jim a congratulatory pat on the back. "You coming to the party, Jim?"

"Of course he is," Bones grouched. "I will literally die if I have to go to that thing alone."

Jim laughed. "Well, I can't be responsible for the death of my best friend, so I suppose I'll just have to grin and bear it through the awful tragedy of attending a party, of all things."

Bones gave his family a long-suffering look, though it seemed obvious how much he actually loved them. "You guys can head back to the house now. I'll wait and give Jim a ride."

David nodded, and then kissed the top of Bones' head. "Sure thing. I'm proud of you, kid." Then he took one of Eliza's hands to lead her away, his parents following slowly behind him.

Once they were gone, Bones gave Jim a long look. "I'll wait outside in the truck. If I don't see you or hear from you in twenty minutes, I'll send out a search party."

Despite the joking tone, Jim knew that the worry his friend was feeling was real, and he wondered if he'd ever stop feeling guilty for being the cause of all that concern. He nodded. "I'll text you," he promised. He watched Bones shove his way through the lingering crowd to get to the exit, and then Jim turned to head to the last spot he'd seen his guardians in. Emilia and Carmen were still standing in the same place they'd been sitting in. "Hey, remember I told you I'd be going to Bones' for his grad party?"

Emilia nodded. "Of course. Congratulations, Jim. You did fantastic up there. I noticed that you changed your speech from the one who showed me, but I thought it came out very nicely."

Jim grinned. "Thanks."

Carmen nodded as well. "Good job, Jim. You deserved to get to this point. Let us know when you're on your way home, okay?"  
Then they headed out, not having any interest in chatting with the other parents since they didn't really know any of them, and probably wouldn't see any of them again after today. After they were gone, Jim started towards the exit as well, but then somebody stepped out to block his path. "Might I talk with you for a minute, Jim?"

Jim smiled. "Of course, Spock." Instead of heading to the parking lot, where there would be just as many people as there were in the auditorium, they went into the hallway, and took the familiar route back to Spock's classroom. Once they were inside and the lights were turned on, Jim turned to look at Spock curiously. "What's up?"

There was a moment of hesitation before Spock began speaking. "I just thought I should tell you that I am proud of you for all that you have accomplished."

Jim arched one eyebrow. "And you had to tell me that in private? Or did you have more to say?"

Spock sighed. "I'm still not very good at talking about my… about my feelings. I wanted to tell you that I think you're an amazing and inspiring person, and even if you nearly gave me several heart attacks, I am still proud to say that I was one of your teachers. Someday when you're rich and famous in whatever career you go into, don't forget about me when you're writing your memoir."

"I wouldn't be able to," Jim assured him with a soft laugh. "You saved my life, Spock. In more ways that you probably even realize." He reached out to grab Spock's hand for a parting handshake, and Spock's cheeks went slightly pink. Jim furrowed his eyebrows, but didn't pull his hand away. "What?"

Spock coughed once. "Among Vulcans, touching hands is considered to be a practice with a very similar meaning to that of a kiss."

"Oh. Well, you're not a Vulcan anymore, right?" He did pull his hand away, not wanting to make things weird, but the pink on Spock's face didn't fade away. "Sorry if I crossed over any lines, I swear that I didn't mean to do it. Well, I'll see you around, Spock. Thank you for everything." He turned to leave the room, and waved back at Spock without looking at him, and then found the nearest exit to the building so that he could go to the parking lot and find Bones. He was weirdly excited for this party, and hoped that it would be the best party he'd ever been to (not that he had any other parties to compare it to anyways).

,,,

Spock looked up at the sound of someone knocking on the open door to his classroom. "The door is open," he pointed out to his visitor. The principal walked in, and Spock was about to greet her, when he saw someone else trail in after her. A very familiar someone.

The principal gave him a friendly smile. "Spock, I'm glad that you're still here. I was hoping that you would be. You may not remember, but this is James Kirk. He was a student here about five years ago, and says he had you for senior math. Well, he's just been hired as our newest English teacher, and I was hoping that you would be able to show him the ropes. Jumping in in the middle of the school year as a brand new teacher will be difficult, but I have full faith in James."

Spock nodded once. "Of course."

The principal clapped her hands together. "Wonderful! If I don't see you again before Friday, good luck with your first day! I'll just leave you two to it now." She left the two men alone in the room.

They stared at each other for a moment, and Spock took a moment to think about how strange it was to see Jim in a nice suit and tie, with much shorter hair that was gelled back. But then Jim let out a loud snicker, and Spock relaxed to see that it was still the same Jim that he remembered. "You look about as awkward as I remember."

Spock narrowed his eyes. "I'll have you know that I am much less awkward these days than when you first met me." The staring went on for another minute before Spock broke it. "You are looking well. How have your university years treated you?"

Jim shrugged. "Eh, about the same as anyone else, I'd imagine. How have you been? Feeling more comfortable here now that it's not your first year?"

"Yes." He hesitated for a moment, wondering what the most appropriate thing was to say here. "I was just about ready to pack up and leave for the day. Would you like to get a drink with me to discuss your first lesson plans?"

Jim waggled his eyebrows. "'Lesson plans'? Sure, it's a date." He held out his hand, and Spock only took a moment to think about it before accepting the hand shake. Then he grabbed his jacket and briefcase, and gestured for Jim to walk out in front of him. They headed to the parking lot, Jim chattering on about various inane topics as they went.

Jim slid into the passenger seat of Spock's car as if he owned it, and only offered a mischievous little grin. Spock rolled his eyes as he started the engine and drove out of the school lot. "You are awfully presumptuous, aren't you?"

Jim shrugged. "Maybe. You know you like it, though. Now let's go. I could really use a drink after that harrowing job interview." After a few minutes of driving in silence, Jim looked over at Spock. "I can't wait to begin working with you. I'm sure that there is still so much left for me to learn about you, Mr. Spock."

Spock offered a small smile of his own. "I feel the same way, Mr. Kirk." They exchanged the look of a pair sharing an inside joke, though neither of them felt quite like laughing. "I can't remember if I ever told you this, but I am very grateful for some of the things you said when you were my student. I feel as though in some ways, you saved me."

Jim's eyes were glittering with some amusement, and something more intense than that. "Happy to be of assistance. And it's nice to be back."

Spock raised one eyebrow. "Why are you smiling so much?"

Jim shrugged. "I don't know, Mr. Spock. Maybe I'm just happy to be here?"


End file.
